Gladiatores et Amores
by BlueBolt
Summary: Ancient Rome fic. After their village is destroyed by the Roman Army, Yugi and Jounouchi wind up as gladiators and run into some interesting people. YY, RB, and some SJ
1. Bacura Intravit

Whee! I'm starting a new fanfic! Okay, before I start, there are a couple things you should know. Because this takes place in Ancient Rome, I'm going to spell the some of the characters' names differently. For instance, there is no "y" in the Roman alphabet, nor is there a "soft c." The names are pronounced like they'd normally be, but they're spelt differently.

Eugi – Yugi 

Iami – Yami Yugi

Gionoci – Jounouchi / Joey

Bacura – Yami Bakura

Riou – Ryou Bakura

Ounda – Honda 

Anxou – Anzu 

Disclaimer: I do not own nor claim to own Yu-Gi-Oh.

Now, on with the fanfic!

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Eugi shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself tightly. It was surprisingly cold for a summer night in Italy, but the rags that served as clothing hardly kept him warm anyways. He glanced over at his friend of ten years, a tall, gangly blonde whose matted hair and unshaven face made him resemble a beast more than a man. Blond hair was unusual for the area, but it was known that Gionoci had Celtic lineage in his family. 

The cart hit a bump in the road, and the six men sitting quietly were jolted from their thoughts. Ounda turned to look at Eugi and Gionoci, pain written across his face. Eugi wasn't surprised- his entire family had been slaughtered before his eyes, and there had been nothing he could do to stop the mighty legions of Rome from massacring the tiny village they'd all lived in. Gionoci sighed loudly, receiving a slap across the forehead from the slave-dealer for making noise. 

"Tacitum*!" The man shouted, and everything became silent once more. Eugi's lavender eyes burned with a surprising vengeance, his hatred for the Empire of Rome growing as he saw more and more of what they were capable of. Now they were not even prisoners of war- they were no better than slaves, and would most likely be sold as such. Gionoci rubbed the side of his face ruefully, but hung his head and tried to sleep through the shaking of the cart and the clopping of the horses' hooves. The sun had fallen many hours ago, but still they travelled on. Both man and animal were pushed to their limits, sparing no exhaust to get to the city of Pompeii before sunrise.

The next day the sun shone relentlessly, beating down on the backs of the Pompeians as they worked to earn their money and wine. The many slaves were lined up, their wrists bound tightly by frayed and scratching rope. A guard stood here or there, watching for any fights or outbursts from the crowd of prisoners.

The slave-master greeted the many civilians that came seeking a good servant with cries of "Salve*, my friend Caecilius!" and "Greetings, Quintus! How is the wife?" His emerald eyes sparkled as he did what he enjoyed most- playing the character the people wanted, in order to make a sale. Eugi and Gionoci watched as their friend Ounda was sold off to a rich-man in elaborate robes with promises of an intelligent, obedient slave. Gionoci was limited in his understanding of Latin, and most certainly couldn't write, but Ounda perhaps stood a chance of learning from this more civilized culture. Perhaps he even stood a chance of becoming a freedman one day, although it was just as likely as it was not. 

Eugi's eyes rose to watch as a strange man approached, his garments fairly plain but his feature incredibly outlandish. The tall man boasted a deep tan and, strangely, hair so blonde it looked at first glance to be white. A slave dressed surprisingly well, who he seemed meek and timid next to the impressive sight of his master, attended him. With a knowing smirk, the strange man greeted the slave-dealer.

"Hello, Otogi, you sly trickster." The addressed slave-dealer grinned, his green eyes flashing in recognition of who this man was.

"Looking for more students, Bacura?" At the mention of the word 'students' Gionoci's face fell visibly. At this rate, he would never be out of the hellhole known as the slave-pit. "I have real Gladiator quality in this bunch- no lies!" The man crossed his arms, smirking wickedly. 

"Ita vero*? Show me then." Otogi nodded, approaching Gionoci quickly. 

"This one's a Celt- you see his hair?- he's born to fight. He was still fighting when the last of his village was in flames and he was up against the army of Rome." Bacura's smirk grew.

"He's a brave fool, then. But is he strong?" Eugi had difficulty keeping at straight face while enduring the insulting casualty of their chat about his village's suffering. For once he was glad that Gionoci's vocabulary was limited- he wouldn't want to ruin his only chance at being taken to somewhere where he wouldn't be overworked and maltreated. 

"Is he strong?" Otogi repeated, gesturing for the strange man to come nearer. "Feel the muscle on him! He may be a bit thin, but I'm sure if anyone can fix that, you can!" Bacura smiled quietly to himself. 'Otogi certainly knows his way with words.'

He took Otogi's comment as an offer to see for himself, putting a hand to Gionoci's arm and giving it a veritable shake. He wasn't surprised that there was no lack of muscle, but it was loose, untrained muscle. Still, he could work with it.

"Very well. Pay the man, Riou." He released Gionoci and turned, motioning for the slave to count out the money for Otogi. "Hopefully he shall do a better job of protecting my reputation as a Gladiator Trainer than he did of protecting the pathetic village that he called his home." Eugi's eyes burned with rage, and he ran at the man suddenly.

"You bastard! Take that back!" Bacura turned just in time to dodge Eugi, the guards quickly pinning the outraged slave to the ground. He laughed at Eugi's struggles, his dark eyes glinting with interest.

"Feisty one, isn't he?" Eugi snarled at him from where he laid, his face in the dirt and his arms pinned at his sides. Bacura turned once more, waving absently to his slave. "I want that one too. Give Otogi his hard-earned money, and we shall be off." Eugi panted, looking up at him with frustration and confusion.

'What? He's buying me? After… after I tried to attack him??' The young man was hoisted roughly to his feet, his bonds loosened with haste. Gionoci was likewise freed, and they were both pushed in the direction of their new owner. Eugi frowned, and Gionoci just looked confused, but the slave at Bacura's side turned and shot them a nervous look, then turned back around and continued following his master. The two of them hurried to catch up, keeping close amid the bustle of mid-day in Pompeii, watched carefully by the guards spotted about the area. 

At the School of Gladiatorial Training, there were no weak men. The weak were sold or broken- only the strong made it past death and into legend.  Eugi and Gionoci quickly learned this, and were careful to avoid getting into fights. New recruits weren't picked on- but they weren't welcomed either. Training was hard- most hours of every day were spent going over sword strokes, hacking at logs suspended by chains, and running obstacle courses to hone the muscles. There was no lack of social time, however. Whatever leftover time was not spent bathing or arm wresting for sport, the men could meet and talk with one another, in the eating hall or in their personal quarters. 

On his second day, Eugi was approached by Bacura's favourite apprentice- Riou. He had smiled at the dinner table, and offered Eugi his cup of water; having seen Eugi's own was drained quickly within the first minute of sitting down. 

"It's hard work, isn't it?" Eugi nodded in reply, taking the kind offering. "Eheu*, he does work us all hard. But it only makes us stronger."

"No offence, but you don't seem the type for Gladiatorial combat. How did you end up here?" Riou smiled, shaking his head to indicate that he wasn't offended in the least.

"I'm here of my own free will. I signed a contract for five years at this place- I need to become stronger. Bacura is helping me do that." Eugi nodded, something suddenly striking him. 

"Oh, by the way- my name's Eugi. You're… Riou, right?" The paler boy nodded; somewhat surprised that Eugi knew his name. "I heard him call you by name, yesterday when he first bought us." Riou nodded again, a small smile forming on his face.

"Speaking of which, where's your friend, the blonde one?" Eugi looked around, searching for the recognisable mop of sandy hair. 

"I'm not sure. He went to get his food a little while ago…" As if on cue, said man appeared at the long table and plopped down, frowning. 

"The food here sucks." He declared in his native tongue, too lazy to try and speak Latin when Eugi could understand him perfectly if he simply spoke how he'd spoken all his life. Riou looked on, confused, as the two went off in conversation that he couldn't understand. Gionoci caught Riou's gaze, and shifted uncomfortably.

"Salve*." He greeted awkwardly, trying to be polite. Riou smiled and repeated the salutation; although his accent flowed far better than Gionoci's and it was obvious he'd spoken Latin all his life. Eugi grinned sheepishly, explaining the situation for his friend.

"Gio doesn't speak much Latin. He just started learning but wasn't really that eager of a student." The blond nodded, having recognised a few of his friend's words. Riou smiled, understanding the predicament.

"Don't worry, he'll pick up on it soon enough. It's not like the people around here ever _stop_ talking." He and Eugi snickered, although Gionoci was completely lost. 

Despite the language barrier, they were quickly good friends. Gionoci did eventually pick up on the most common words, and was able to carry on a conversation with Riou within a week or two of listening to other people and their banter. Compared to the slavery they had expected, Eugi and Gionoci were surprised by the ease in which a Gladiator in training lived.

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tacitum! – silence!

salve! – hello! greetings! (pronounced SAHL-way)

ita vero – yes, sure (sarcastic)

eheu – alas

Hope you enjoyed the first chapter! If you think I should continue, please review and tell me what you thought! I have big plans for this, and Iami will come into the story in a little bit. And yes, there will be some romance thrown into the mix with this story.


	2. Tu Non Es Gladiator

The newest gladiators stood in a line, their bodies glistening with sweat. Their first week of training was complete- they were now going to be given a speciality in gladiatorial combat. Eugi's glance shifted nervously to Riou, who seemed to be on the verge of a mental breakdown. Gionoci, however, seemed eager to find out what sort of weaponry he'd be using. The first week of training had all been strength building, weights, and obstacle courses. Now was the time they wielded a weapon. The air was tense, and it seemed like every last one of young men were holding their breath, whether it be in apprehension, fear, or excitement. 

Bacura strolled down the line, several slaves at his side carrying wooden training weapons of all sort. He would examine each man thoroughly, making a comment on his disappointing progress, or snarling about his need for improvement, then barking out a classification of gladiator for him to train as. Eugi felt his heart rate pick up as Bacura neared him. He'd heard tales from the older gladiators of men not being good enough, and being sold to quarries rather than given a weapon. Of course, whether or not these were just rumours to spook the newcomers, he couldn't tell. 

"Murmillo!" He shouted out, a slave handing the addressed man a wooden training sword. "Hoplomachus!" Bacura roared, enjoying the way they all clenched their jaws nervously. At last, he arrived in front of Eugi. The shorter man tried to look straight ahead, afraid of what Bacura might say.

"Disappointing. Very disappointing. You train without passion, without that energy burning in your eyes that made me buy you in the first place. You're a weakling compared to these real men. Disgusting. But maybe you can use that to your advantage. A skinny little thing like you might be fast on his feet, given the proper training. I'll give you another chance-" he sneered, "but I want to see that fire in your eyes again. When you learn to fight with that fire, then you'll become a true Gladiator. And maybe even a man." Eugi gritted his teeth, refraining from shouting the obscenities that threatened to flow from his mouth like the blood flowing from an open wound. Bacura turned, crossing his arms. 

"There it is- there's that burn of hatred. Just remember the oath. The gladiator's oath? You remember that don't you?" Eugi's face twisted into a snarl as he repeated the oath he had taken a week earlier alongside of Gionoci.

"I undertake to be burnt by fire, to be bound in chains, to be beaten, to die by the sword."

"Good. Don't forget that. Retiarius!" He shouted, and then moved on to the next man. A wooden trident was tossed into Eugi's hands, and he examined it. He'd seen men training with tridents, using nets as well. Cruel irony, that he was given the type of Gladiator that represented a common fisherman- for that was exactly what his father had been back in his village. He sighed angrily, glaring at the ground. One day, he would find some way to avenge his slaughtered family, his murdered friends, in a way without bloodshed. There had to be something he could do.

Bacura came after a while to Gionoci, pausing considerately. 

"You're the only one here who hasn't let me down. You may be stultissimus* but you're strong, and filled with passion for fighting. You should make a fine Murmillo. Take the sword- you can train using the large shield later on." Gionoci nodded; hurt by Bacura's comment about his intelligence, but glad he wasn't going to be a stupid sort of Gladiator with a pike or a spear, or something useless like that. His grip on the wooden sword tightened, and he felt adrenaline rush through his body already. It felt so right, to hold a sword in his hands. One day he would know what it felt like to wield a real sword, and to stand, victorious, the crowd chanting his name. 

"But YOU!" He suddenly heard Bacura roar, turning to see Riou wilting under his master's gaze. "Pathetic! If you were not contract bound to this school, I would have sold you long ago! You will never get anywhere, and you will never be a gladiator! I'm amazed I even let you in here in the first place!" Riou's jaw twitched, his eyes directed solemnly at his toes. "You are still weak! You would lose a fight to a woman! Come back for a weapon when you have the strength to lift one! Until then, I'm keeping you on training with the newcomers." Riou sighed, nodding slowly.

"Ita, dominus.*"

That night, Eugi made his way to Riou's quarters, walking in without much modesty. It was just the way things were, and they were good enough friends. 

"Hey… are you alright?" Riou nodded, his eyes dull and pained, although he didn't show any other emotion. "He let you down pretty hard."

"No… it's okay. I'm… I'm used to it by now." Eugi tilted his head to the side slightly, raising an eyebrow.

"You're used to it? Riou… how long have you been here?" The pale man shrugged, sitting down on his bed.

"About maybe… half a year?" Eugi's eyes widened in shock.

"And he still hasn't let you train at the next level?" His response was a shake of the head.

"He says the same thing every month. That I'm still not strong enough, that I need to train harder." Eugi noticed for the first time that Riou might be small, but his arms were coils of tight muscle and sinew. He must have hid his strength well, for Eugi had never seen that before.

"But if you've been training for six months, you should have been in your first practice battle by now!" There was a rapping of wood against plaster as Bacura passed by, tapping on the doorway with a cane. 

"People are complaining, they can't sleep. Stop making noise and go to your own room. You can talk tomorrow." Eugi sighed and nodded, leaving and going back to his own room. He did need sleep. The next day, the training would be difficult, and he knew it.

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stultissimus – very stupid, the stupidest

ita, dominus. – Yes, master.

I know that was short, but I'll update sooner next time because I have an idea in my head of what I'm going to do with the next chapter. Review if you liked, give constructive criticism if you didn't! ^_^ Either way, please review!


	3. Retarius Eugi

Hey, I'm back for yet another chapter. I'm hoping to make this one longer than the last one, and more interesting too. One of the comments was that I should give Riou more of a "backbone", which I thought was kind of funny, seeing as he doesn't have a "backbone" in the first place. He's branded as a bit of a wimp, and I'd like to keep that consistent in this fiction. The thing is, he's determined to prove Bacura wrong. Oh, and he's not trying to stay back, it's just Bacura has some unknown reason for picking on him and putting him down. I'll go into that later. Now, on with the fanfiction!

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"_Pugna!_" Bacura shouted, his arm shooting into the air. The two men tensed, holding the swords ready, circling one another. Suddenly the burlier man lashed out, the other moving to the side and whacking him sharply across the wrist with his wooden sword. The man cursed loudly, and Bacura growled.

"Cease! You know what you're doing, Rognas, but you're ending the fight too soon. What crowd will cheer for a man that fights no more than a second? Lengthen your strokes, be more dramatic! And Siphax? Don't be so hotheaded. You may be stronger than he is, but acting the cocky, foolish bastard will win you no fight. Now return to training. Twelve laps of the field for the both of you before you return to normal practice." The two men nodded, running off to do as their master bid. 

Bacura sighed, rubbing his temple with two fingers. It had been a long, sweltering hot day, and all his men were out in the field training with the older Gladiators. His school's pride-and-joy Gladiator was at a large fight at a private residence- otherwise, he would have been supervising the combat training. 

The tall, dangerous figure wandered through the neatly distributed pairs of men, watching them combat with wooden weaponry, checking for grace, style, and stamina. A Gladiatorial battle was more than a simple bout with a winner and a loser- it was a play, an act of bravery and contempt of death. The gladiators who fought were trained in how to prolong the battle, how to win, how to lose, and, in appropriate situations, how to die. They were dancers bearing shields and blades, an image of danger and elegance, an act of skill and swordsmanship. Indeed, Bacura knew he did his job well. Still… if a gladiator was weak, then he would lose. It was that simple.

He crossed his arms, pausing in front of a shorter man, who was having difficulty against his much larger, and obviously more experienced opponent. The net of the Retarius was wrapped haphazardly around his right leg, ensnaring him with his own tool. He blocked the swings of his huge adversary with his three-pronged trident, sweat dripping down his neck from the exertion and the glaring heat of the Italian sun. 

"I'm losing hope, Eugi." Bacura snarled cruelly, eliciting a dark glance in his direction before the shorter gladiator focused his attention once more on his training partner. "You seem to be getting even weaker. It's no wonder your pathetic village stood no chance, if they were all as weak as you are." A dangerous flash appeared in the young man's violet eyes, and he shoved his opponent with a mighty lurch and left him staggering backwards. Using the little time the manoeuvre had earned him, Eugi faces Bacura, bristling.

"Take that back, coward. You fight with words, but cannot raise a hand to me!" Bacura smirked, his eyes on the muscular man looming behind Eugi.

"No, I have others to do that for me." Eugi was suddenly struck in the shoulder, throwing him off balance and tossing him to his feet. He snarled, suddenly brandishing the net and whirling it above his head, jerking his arm so that the weighted net suddenly caught over the other man's head. He opponent yelled, pushing forward and slashing with the wodden sword. Eugi struck him with trident, having the advantage of weapon length, sending the man to his knees.

"_Satis!_" Bacura yelled, a smirk forming on his lips. "You see? Any man can fight like a demon loosed from the grip of the underworld. All he needs is a little motivation- something to fight for, you might say." Eugi's chest heaved, and although he had won the spar, his torso was adorned with bruises, and it would be sore for the rest of the night. Anger burned in his eyes, despising the man for all the filth he spouted about things he didn't even understand. How cruel could anyone be? Maybe he would have preferred to work in some sort of quarry, after all. The thought was suddenly banished from his head as he caught a cry from across the field, a heavy, undistinguishable accent on the shout of victory.

"_Euge! Ego sum victor!_" Gionoci roared proudly, his sword held high above his head. Bacura smiled dangerously, but did not approach him, instead turning to the men and raising his bejewelled hands up to the sky.

"The sun is high! Return to your rooms and water shall be brought to you. Tonight is the greatest task of all for the newest students- the test of skill, the battle that will decide whether or not you are fit for the arena. Now go, rest and prepare!" Friendly banter sprung up almost immediately after Bacura has finished talking, the dull clunk of wood on wood indicating the men were packing up weaponry for the moment. Eugi wandered over to where Gionoci stood, his now clean-shaven face bronzed from yet another month in the sun at the school of gladiators. 

"You've been doing well lately! How many wins for today?" Gionoci paused, counting in his head.

"Seven, I think. I clobbered the first three, but then this huge fella' challenged me and I almost took a fall. Got 'im in the end though." The training was doing well for Gionoci's overall appearance. He'd become much more talkative, and his natural muscle had become well-honed and almost bulged, despite the fact that he was still a bit thin compared to the other men in his class. Eugi couldn't help but frown as he immediately thought of how the women back at his village would have reacted. He couldn't just leave his past behind him, could he?

"Well done, _amicus_, you must have sent them running like sheep being chased by wolves."

Several hours later, a man lay on his bed, sorting out his thoughts. Bacura needed to think things out before he became confused and lost sight of his goal. In the days when he himself was a champion gladiator, that was the one thing that he'd ever feared- losing sight of his goal. Now that he was free of the endless toil of battle after battle, he wasn't sure what his goal was anymore. Back then, it had been freedom. But now, there was something else on his mind. Something that just happened to knock on his door at that moment.

"_Intras._" He stated dully, sitting up to watch the door open. Riou stepped into the room, holding a chalice of diluted wine. 

"_Coquus_ asked me to bring you this. He said you'd asked for it-"

"Yes, yes. Put it on the table." Bacura waved his hand absentmindedly, taking the cup and sipping at the cool drink inside, already feeling the calming affect it had on his nerves. He closed his eyes, relishing the flavour, then frowned when Riou was still there as he opened his eyes. "Did you want something?" He raised an eyebrow, placing the chalice on the table and crossing his arms. Riou faltered, obviously wanting to say something but afraid of what the answer might be.

"I uh… I was just wondering… um… why… why you…"

"Spit it out, boy!"

"Why are you keeping me back? You know just as well as I do that I'm just as fit, if not more so than any… anyone… anyone else." His stutter returned as the brief moment of courage faded, the fear coursing through him now that he was faced with Bacura's narrowed eyes, though lurking behind his crimson irises. After a pause, he replied:

"You lack ambition."

"I lack ambition??" Riou retorted suddenly, offended by the fact that Bacura was well aware how damn hard he'd been trying to get past his stupid 'You're too weak' comments. "That's a lie, and you know it." He pulled back the short sleeve of his simple tunic, flexing the muscle that didn't lie about how hard he'd been training. "Look at that, master," he spat, suddenly filled with anger, "and tell me I lack ambition!" Bacura was taken aback by Riou's change of character. This was not the Riou that had signed the contract, meek, afraid, and daunted. This was something he'd never seen before.

"Very well." He waved his hand, his rings glittering in the candlelight. He was eager to get Riou out before he himself actually said something that he'd regret. "I'll move you up to the next level." Riou was shocked. That was all it took? Surprised by how easily swayed Bacura had been, he left the room with a nod, utterly speechless. Bacura watched him leave, his hand wandering to the chalice of wine once more. 

"Strange boy…" He whispered under his breath, watching Riou's quickly retreating figure. "He's more than I expected. Not like he needs to know that though." Bacura sighed, taking a deep swig from the cup and finishing it off in one go, finished with relishing the flavour and personality of the beverage. Now there was a different personality on his mind- and it had nothing to do with food.

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_Pugna! – Fight!_

_Satis! – Enough!_

_Euge! Ego sum victor! – Hurray! I am the winner! (rough translation)_

_Amicus – Friend_

_Intras – (you) enter_

_Coquus – Cook {noun}_

Hope you enjoyed the latest chapter! Please review and tell me what you thought, comments are always welcomed! 

**P.S. Hey Ashley, did I add enough Latin for ya? ;) I tried to put in a few more, just for you.**


	4. Gladiator Notissimus

Later that night when the sun had fallen, Bacura left his chamber and wandered the halls, rapping on doorframes and shouting at the occupants to hurry up and get to the field. He stuck his head into the room he knew to be Riou's and glanced around, surprised that he wasn't there. 

'So much for making him fetch the rest of them. I'll have to get someone else to do it.' He paused, glancing over his shoulder before strolling casually into the room. It was modest, like most of the other gladiators' quarters, but there was an air of softness he'd never noticed before. Perhaps it was the way the thin linen sheet was draped neatly over the bed, or maybe it was just the lack of body odour. Bacura mentally noted Riou's cleanliness, then left the room and continued down the corridor. He knocked on the frame of the nearest doorway, walking in and discovering he'd located Gionoci's room.

"You there, I need you to go around and get everyone out of their rooms and into the field. I have to set up some things, so I won't be able to do it myself." Gionoci nodded, startled by Bacura's sudden appearance. 'He must have been in the middle of something,' Bacura thought to himself, leaving quickly and heading for the training field. 'But what? Oh well. It doesn't matter.'

Gionoci roused himself quickly, grabbing for some strips of fabric that lay on his small table. He wandered out of the room, winding the cloth around his wrists and palms as he stuck his head into various rooms, shouting as he walked down the hallway for all to come to the field. A grin formed on his face of it's own will, the adrenaline beginning to course through his veins already. Now was the time he proved himself worthy of the arena. Tonight was the night that he showed his true colours, the night that everything was riding on.

Eugi joined him silently, coming out from his room as Gionoci passed by, still calling the men out from their rooms. The shorter man glanced at his friend.

"Nervous?" Gionoci shook his head, grinning.

"Excited. I can't wait to get into the arena." He offered Eugi one of his strips of fabric, and Eugi accepted it quickly, wrapping it around his forehead. It was, he had been taught, a traditional garb for the Retarius, who wore very little armour and didn't even have a helmet. They stepped outside, and Eugi couldn't suppress a gasp at the sight that rose to meet his eyes. 

A large stage had been erected in the middle of the field, a huge torch burning brightly near each corner. The flickering flames cast an eerie glow on the platform, and even Gionoci felt a shudder run up his spine. 

Bacura watched everyone arrive, directing a couple of slaves as they piled straw around the stage, keeping any man that fell off safe from injury.

"No, fool! Not so close to the torches! Do you want to burn down my school? And pile it thicker! I'll be throwing YOU off the side to test it, so make sure it's nice and comfy." He smirked as the slaves began to work faster, piling the straw thick enough to muffle the fall of a boulder. He nearly laughed, looking around at the awe in the men's faces. Each had been issued their proper weapon upon entry, and he suddenly realised he'd neglected to give Riou a classification of gladiator. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen Riou anywhere in the crowd. He glanced around, narrowing his eyes. Stepping quickly through the gathering throng, he scoffed. 'I gave him a chance, and this is how he thanks me? By not showing up? I'll make sure he doesn't forget this soon if he makes a fool out of me.' He fumed silently, pushing past several people and looking around the dark field. 

"Where is he?" He muttered under his breath, searching the crowd for the pale, timid young man. 'If he's not in his room, and he's not out here, then where is he?' Suddenly he caught the sound of wood striking against wood. Following the intermittent clunks to a far corner of the field, Bacura raised an eyebrow at what he saw. Riou stood beside a training log, a large slab of wood suspended by a chain. He struck once, twice, three times, pausing to catch his breath, then striking again with the wooden sword clenched tightly in his hands. Bacura was curious as to what Riou could do, but now was not the time- the assessment fights were about to begin. 

"I hope you didn't simply take that training sword. You're supposed to wait until I issue you a weapon." Riou looked up, shock in his eyes. He hadn't seen or heard anyone approaching, and was caught off guard.

"N- no, sir. I borrowed it from Gionoci." Bacura stepped from the shadows, his eyes narrowed dangerously. 

"Very well then. Hurry up and return it to him and get one of your own. You've no time to waste. If you're not there when I call you into battle, I won't wait for you." He sneered, turning and going back to the stage where a few slaves had nervously been watching for him, unsure of what he'd do if everything wasn't perfect.

Eugi inhaled deeply, the banter around him dying down as Bacura and a strange gladiator climbed onto the stage. Bacura held a hand up for silence, and a hush fell over the crowd. The light from the torches reflected off the gladiator's armour, the shin-plates and shield shimmering with an orange glow. The sword at the man's hip flashed dangerously, and his eyes narrowed through the holes in his helmet. Gionoci leaned over toward Eugi and whispered,

"Who is that? I don't recognise him." Eugi shrugged, his eyes running over the man's attire in a quick analysing glance. 

"Maybe he's from another school? It looks like he's a Hoplomachus." Gionoci nodded in agreement, now wishing he hadn't let Riou borrow his sword, longing to grip something in his tight fist. Compared to this stranger, his meagre weaponry seemed pathetic. None of them stood a chance if he used his long, steel scythe against their mainly wooden artillery. 

Eugi, at least, may have had a hope against him- the man's elaborate helmet would catch easily in his net. This was one of the main reasons Hoplomachi were rarely paired against Retarii; it made for a short-lived and one-sided fight, something that generally didn't entertain crowds. Riou suddenly appeared beside Gionoci, handing him the borrowed sword, now hefting one of his own.

"_Salve_, Eugi, Gionoci. Sorry I took so long to get back, I had to go get my sword. I'm a Secutor!" The pride of this achievement seemed to radiate off of him, his grin putting a smile on Eugi's face. "I didn't miss anything, did I?" Gionoci shook his head.

"_Non_. They're just getting started." Riou's eyes suddenly wandered to the Hoplomachus that stood on the stage. He gasped, his eyes widening in recognition.

"We have to fight… him?" He whispered fearfully, suddenly wishing he were still training with the newcomers. Eugi gave him a funny look, but nodded.

"Do you recognise him?"

"_Ita._ That's Bacura's old rival- the best in the entire school. He's won at least twelve arena matches, but has declined freedom twice already. I forget his name…" Bacura began to speak, explaining the rules of the match. Eugi sighed in relief as the gladiatorial champion was handed a wooden sword, the one of steel remaining untouched at his side. 

"…and I shall call each of you up by name to fight! If you fall from the stage within twenty seconds, you are disqualified and unfit for the arena! All stand ready? Siphax!" Then Bacura descended from the stage, the burly Samnite coming up to fight the strange gladiator. 

"_Pugna!_" Eugi watched as the school champion blocked two attacks, sidestepped a charge, and pushed Siphax easily off into the straw. A lump began to form in his throat; this was going to be anything but easy. Another man was called up, then another, and another. So far, only one had managed to stay on the stage within the time limit. 

"Gionoci!" The blonde Murmillo gripped his huge shield, took a breath, and took the steps up to the stage. Now face to face with his opponent, he could see the expertise in the very way he carried himself. A drop of sweat trickled down the back of his neck, and his muscles tensed, preparing to launch himself against this powerful foe.

"_Pugna!_" A movement in front of him, he swung the large shield to his front, throwing back the attack. The Hoplomachus' small, round shield struck at his side, sending pain rushing through his senses. Another blur coming at him, and Gionoci's sword shot up, parrying the attack with what could only be described as instinct. He took a step forward, lurching the shield at the more experienced Gladiator, then swinging the wooden sword at his side. His sword was met halfway, tossed back and thrown from his grip, but the huge shield of the Murmillo pushed his opponent back, the momentum causing him to lose balance, his heavy helmet weighing him down and causing him to fall backwards over the edge. Eugi gave a shout of joy, congratulating his friend heartily as he descended from the stage. Bacura nodded to him respectfully.

"You have a natural skill for fighting. It won't go to waste here. Well done." Gionoci grinned, still amazed that he'd managed to fight back the best gladiator in the school. It had, of course, been mainly determined by sheer luck, but that did nothing to lower his spirit. 

"Riou!" By then, the nameless gladiator had regained his position on the platform, awaiting the next challenger with a burning desire to redeem himself. It was almost painful for Eugi to watch how Riou tried not to tremble, his natural fear kicking in.

'No.' Riou told himself. 'I can't be afraid. I will prove that I'm strong enough.' He heart pounded in his chest like a drum gone wild, and he gripped his sword tightly. 

"_Pugna!_" Bacura cried for the fifth time that night, interested in what the fight might reveal of Riou's hidden strength.

The Hoplomachus struck like lightning, and Riou stumbled backward. He frowned, trying to remember what technique he was supposed to use. His mind was blank. The gladiator struck again, bashing him in the side with his shield. Riou shouted, jumping back and nearly falling off the stage, but resting on the edge with alarming balance. His opponent looked at Riou's feet, having expected him to fall, and suddenly felt the blow strike him right across his unprotected chest. He staggered back, then swung at the advancing Riou, catching him in the collarbone and sending him right over the edge. It took Riou a moment to realise that he'd failed already. He had gotten one chance to prove himself, and blown it. Bacura was going to send him back to beginner level for sure. 

Bacura was secretly pleased with the results, glad that Riou wouldn't be going to any arenas for the time being. He glanced at the crowd, and called out yet another name. 

Eugi approached Riou, offering him a hand and helping to pull him up. Riou sighed heavily, his hopes shattered. 

"I've… failed."

"Don't worry about it." Eugi consoled, patting him on the shoulder. "At least you lasted longer than that beefed-up Siphax." Riou nodded, still furious with himself. 

"I just… can't win, can I?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, I finally get the chance to show Bacura I'm not a pushover, and I was just tossed over the edge like a loaf of bread."

"Hey, it's not your fault." Eugi tightened his grip on Riou's shoulder a little, steering him away from the stage as yet enough person just barely managed to stay on for more than twenty seconds. "That guy is tough, you said it yourself. Besides, it was only your first try. You'll get plenty of other chances." Riou nodded sadly. 

"I don't feel like watching anymore… I'm going to my room."

"Okay. Will I see you again tonight?"

"Probably not… I need some sleep. I've been training all day." Eugi nodded, seeing Riou off with a nod and a friendly smile.

"Eugi!" With a tingle running up his spine, Eugi turned back to the platform and made his way up the steps. Clenching the net as tightly as he clenched his teeth, he looked the Champion over, trying to anticipate what he'd do first. Bacura gave the shout, and the fight started. 

This time the Champion was more cautious, knowing well the dangers of a Retarius' net. They circled one another, and then Eugi threw the mesh netting suddenly. The other man caught it, wrapping it around his arm and yanking it towards himself. Eugi was pulled in, and he released his end of the net just before he would have been hit with the sword. Now baring the trident in both hands, he blocked two attacks from the Hoplomachus, swinging his long weapon at his head with a shout. The champion ducked, grabbing hold of it and spinning, trying to throw Eugi off the edge. Eugi held on, reaching out and grabbing the man's bare arm. Now locked together and spinning in circles, it was only a matter of time before one or the other let go and fell. Suddenly, the champion twisted the trident awkwardly, freeing Eugi's hand and sending him off balance, toppling over the edge. Both of them went over, Eugi holding on with grim determination, even as he was nearly crushed underneath of him. Bacura pulled the two apart, smirking.

"What a show. Unfortunately, this isn't _Circus Maxima_, this is a school of combat. You are nothing more than a jester with a weapon! However… you are a lucky jester. You lasted beyond the time limit. You are ready for the arena. Unworthy of its glory, but ready for it's peril." With that he helped his champion to his feet, and called out yet another name.

Gionoci lifted Eugi up by the wrist, grinning. 

"Don't listen to him. You were _fortissimus_! I've never seen anything like that before!" Eugi nodded, accepting his friend's advice and walking with him to the building. The matches had gone on late into the night, and were still going on. It was a wonder the champion had that kind of stamina. On their way to their rooms, they ran into Riou, who had a large grin on his face.

"Eugi! I remember what his name was! The champion of this school… his name is Iami!"

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Fwee! How was that for an ending?

_Salve – Hello, Greetings_

_Non – No_

_Ita – Yes_

_Pugna! – Fight!_

_Circus Maxima – A sort of arena where less bloody forms of entertainment were held, lik charriot races._

Fortissimus – Very Brave / Strong 

Please review and tell me what you thought! If there's something you'd like to happen, let me know. I've got the plot planned out to a certain extent, but other than that, it's mostly brainstorming.


	5. Diodorus In Thermae

Hey all! I'm back from my longer-than-usual break between chapters. In response to Silver Draggon's comment, Seto comes in a bit later, and, yes, you _could_ say he's royalty… snickers But anyways, I thought I'd take a break from all the fighting-ness seeing as I am not very good at writing fight scenes, and since we all want more Bakky-chan. Okay, maybe nobody said they wanted more Bakky-chan. But you were all thinking it. I know you were. shakes fist On with the chapter!

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Bacura strolled down the street, his toga flapping in the light breeze and his many rings twinkling as brightly as his crimson eyes. A pair of gladiators tagged along at his heels, although they weren't nearly popular enough to be recognised as anything more than slaves. They might as well have been- one carried Bacura's small oil-pot and a discus, while the other an assortment of dull metal hooks, known as strigils. There was a spring in his step as he made his way through the crowded streets of Pompeii, on his way to one of the four public baths in the city. He smirked lightly to himself, unconsciously speeding up. It had been far too long since his last romp at a bath. Besides, he could use a massage.

"_Salve_, Bacura!" Shouted a man standing on the steps leading up to the bath complex, waving to get his attention. Bacura grinned and returned the gesture.

"_Salve_, Marcellus! _Tu hodie non laboras_?"

"_Non_." The man grinned, shaking his head to emphasise the point. "Today is my day of relaxation! No work for me until tomorrow." Bacura laughed, doubting the truth of the statement. He nodded once before climbing up the steps and depositing a pair of coins in the doorman's awaiting hand. Looking back over his shoulder, Bacura glared at the pair of slaves and urged them to keep up.

He walked through the impressive colonnade to the exercise room, greeting several other people before discarding his heavy toga, throwing it to one of his attendants and straightening out his tunic. His eyes quickly found their way to where two men were arm wrestling, grunting like wounded boars while their faces turned the shade of an expensive wine. He wandered over and watched with interest, shouting out encouragement whenever there was a break in the noise of the crowd that watched with him. Finally one man collapsed, and the victor began to boast.

"Impressive." Bacura commented, crossing his arms and smirking, a challenge in his eyes. The other man grinned, seeing the remark as a dare and holding out his hand.

"Care to find out for yourself?" Bacura's smirk widened, and his hand grappled the other's before he could blink.

"Indeed I do." With that said, all his concentration went to the sport that arm-wresting provided, his thick biceps tensing, the tendons stiffening in preparation. "Go!"

Riou watched from a distance, adjusting the toga in his arms so that he didn't tread on it by accident. His eyebrows shot up in surprise when Bacura forced the other man's arm back within a matter of seconds without even breaking a sweat. So it was true- Bacura had been a gladiator once. This was repeated again and again as people challenged Bacura, whiling away time amid laughter and friendly competition. After a good while, he grew bored and rose, motioning to Riou and Diodorus that they were moving on.

They followed him through a hallway and into the passage used as a changing room. The several naked males did not perturb any of them in the least, as they knew what made them men and were not ashamed. Riou placed the toga in a niche in the wall, turning around as Bacura pulled the tunic over his head to reveal his bronzed chest. Riou felt something akin to guilt as he couldn't help but admire his well-toned abdominal muscle; which was odd, as he knew it was only admiration in the loosest sense of the term. Diodorus took the tunic and placed it alongside of the toga, averting his eyes suddenly from Bacura. Riou quirked an eyebrow, befuddled by the blush that graced the cheeks of the younger man, and tried to figure out what Diodorus had been looking at. Riou had to bite his lip to keep from laughing when he realised that Bacura was the source of his companion's embarrassment; he had just removed the last of his clothing. Bacura, however, was less considerate of other's feelings, and burst out in loud, raucous guffaws.

"Have you never seen another man before?" He asked, the amusement apparent in his voice. The blush on Diodorus' face deepened, and he risked a glance in Bacura's direction to nod quickly.

"I- I have, but you don't understand, you see, I- uh-" Bacura snorted, laughing even harder.

"If you're one of those strange men who's uncomfortable around others, then hang back for all I care." Riou watched Diodorus flush with awkwardness, knowing him well enough to understand why he was so distressed by the whole situation. So Riou approached Bacura, to explain to him so that maybe he would stop teasing Diodorus, and, failing that, they could get on with the bath so that he could get back to the school.

"Bacura…" Riou paused, reconsidering his phrasing. "_Dominus_… Diodorus loves men." Bacura grinned, crossing his arms.

"I guessed at much. Hurry up then, we can't stand here all day when there are fortunes to be boasted of and baths to be had- come on." And with that he continued on through the corridor and went into the _tepidarium_.

Riou hung back, feeling a bit bad for Diodorus. Being gay wasn't a bad thing. In fact, it was encouraged in the army; it was thought that lovers would fight harder to impress one another. It wasn't all that uncommon around the gladiator barracks, considering Riou had found out a while ago that Eugi was interested in men too. Still, anyone would have been embarrassed in a situation like this particular one.

"Sorry I told him. It was the only way to shut him up."

"It's not your fault, he would have figured it out anyways…" He mumbled, staring at his feet.

"Ah well. Shall we wait here until he calls for us, or do you want to go in?" At Riou's question, Diodorus looked up.

"Why wouldn't I want to? Just because one man caught me staring doesn't mean any others will." Riou chuckled, punching him softly in the shoulder.

"There's the Diodorus I know. Come on then- you can cover for me while I try to find a way into the women's area." He smirked, and Diodorus punched him in the same fashion.

"I think I'm rubbing off on you. Hardly a good thing."

"Riou! Diodorus! Get in here!"

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_Salve – Hello, Greetings_

_Tu hodie non laboras – Are you not working today?_

_Non – No_

_Dominus – Master_

_Tepidarium – "Warm Room" Like a steam room, which the men would sit in and sweat for a while before going into the Caldarium ("Hot Room") to swim and talk and bathe. _

Bah, that was hardly a chapter. But I felt like ending it there so that I can collect my thoughts and make the next chapter better. Oh, and Riou is gay too, he just hasn't realised it yet. He spends so much time around guys, he doesn't know the difference between attraction and admiration- plus, he doesn't get to see many women, so he doesn't know that he's not attracted to them, so he simply assumes that he's "normal" and that he is attracted to women. Did that make any sense? I hope so.


	6. Iami Gionoci Credit

Well, sorry for the mass hiatus, you guys. I'd just like to thank my three most loyal readers, Silver Draggon, Nephyths-Poison, and of course my good friend Sarah. Again, I apologise for taking so long to update. There was a major lack of inspiration and I just came through a little bit of rough ground with my emotional life, but I'm back on my writing feet, and I suppose that's all you guys care about! == Anyways, here we go, we're off to see the Romans, the wonderful Romans of… Rome.

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Gionoci inhaled sharply, looking out at the arena. It was huge, even for one of the smaller, less popular fighting stadiums. He wasn't given much time to gawk, however, as he was rushed along in the building beside it to get his armour and weapons on, along with the fifteen other gladiators that were there. Eugi hadn't been chosen for this particular event- there were no openings for a retiarius. Gionoci felt incredibly alone without him, but was too caught up in the thrill of his first real steel on steel, sweat and blood battle.

The people rushed by him, hurrying to get their equipment on. The host of the games was a rich Pompeian trying to win the public's favour- a man of small power only just working his way up the political ladder. He had sponsored the small games that were mainly beginners up against each other, but had also been able to afford some sort of big event, a finale or something- at least, so Gionoci had heard.

He pulled the heavy helmet on over his head, unused to the weight and hunching his shoulders a little. Through the echo of the metal around his ears, he heard another man laugh.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it after a while. That helmet's not nearly as bad as some of the crazy hunks of metal that some have to wear." Gionoci squinted through the grate on the front of his helmet, trying to identify who had addressed him.

"Yeah, I guess." He replied, pulling the metal greaves on over his shins and yanking the straps tight. "Do I know you?" Through his limited visibility, Gionoci saw the man shake his head.

"Sorry- I guess you're still pretty new around here. I'm Iami." Gionoci's eyes widened, and he paused in his outfitting to eye him scrutinously through the loops of metal that protected his face.

"Aren't you like… the best gladiator in the school? Why are you at a beginner match?"

"I'm here to spice it up at the end. Keep everyone interested." He grinned, obviously pleased to hear Gionoci refer to him as the best. The blonde man finished pulling on the last of his armour, picking up his huge shield and feeling to make sure his sword was sheathed at his side.

"_Optimus_. I'd better get going; don't want to miss my first match."

"_Felix._"

Gionoci rushed to follow the last of his fellow beginners, falling in line with them and peering out into the sunlight. Bacura appeared, leading them out and giving the onlookers a speech. He introduced each of the gladiators by name, throwing in their daring deeds and titles to spice it up, getting the crowd worked up for a good show. Then they all turned and acknowledged the sponsor of the games, as they had been instructed to do earlier, and then dispersed, some returning to the building to await their turn.

Gionoci had been told to stay in the arena- he would be going first. By now, Bacura had ascended to his seat from where he could watch the fight, and the referee, sporting his distance pole, had stepped into the middle of the arena.

"From the Bacura School of gladiators- Gionoci!" The crowd cheered, the blood pulsing in the man's ears speeding up a notch. "And from the Priscus School of gladiators- Gaius!" The mob of onlookers roared, having heard of this man before. This Gaius would give a good show, beginner or not. The referee held the pole parallel to the ground, and the two men stepped forward, their chests at either length of the shaft; the starting distance. Then the man removed the pole and took a pace back.

"_Pugna_!"

The other man, Gaius, stepped forward, drawing his arm back and striking at Gionoci. The blonde turned his arm and met the blade with his shield, throwing him back a pace. Gaius stumbled, holding his sword raised, in case Gionoci decide to attack while he was down, and then charged suddenly. Gionoci caught this just in time, turning on his heel and noticing now more than ever just how heavy gladiator armour was. As Gaius ran by, pushed past his target by his own momentum, Gionoci slashed out with his sword and stuck at his back. Gaius grunted in pain, the blade cleaving through his shoulder.

The crowd cheered, imitating the strike and shouting out encouragement. The first blood had been drawn. Confident from this achievement, Gionoci struck again, to find his blow parried by Gaius's sword. He frowned, pushing the sword back and jumping back a foot to regain his balance. Bacura looked on from his seat beside Hoclonius, the sponsor of the game, lost in thought.

'Damn… that Gaius has more experience than Gionoci- this isn't as fair a fight as I expected it would be.' The crowd roared, some jumping up from their seats, as Gaius scored a deep slash across Gionoci's thigh. 'I counted on his brute strength to pull him through, but against someone like Gaius, he's lost any advantage right away. This might not turn out as I'd hoped… I shouldn't have put him in the stronger list of gladiators so soon. I'd better not lose him… that'll be a huge chunk out of my profit, not to mention he stood a chance of becoming a great gladiator…' Bacura glanced at the politician seated beside him, knowing that if Gionoci lost, this would be the man that decided his fate. Such was the power that sponsor of the games held… it was also a risk though- any killed gladiators had to be paid for directly from his pocket.

Gionoci grit his teeth inside his heavy helmet, throwing his shoulder against Gaius's shield and knocking it from his grasp. Before he had the chance to get a strike in, however, the referee stepped in.

"Drop your shield- the battle shall commence with swords only, as according to the combat rules set down by the emperor." Gionoci frowned- he hadn't heard of this. Still, he let his huge shield fall to the ground with a thud, stepping back as the referee held the pole between them again, then pulled away. "_Pugna_!"

Both paused, their swords raised cautiously. Each were at a great loss now- they'd both been Murmillos, their shield their greatest asset. Now they could rely on skill and speed only. There was no protective leather between them; just the biting edge of a sword. Each held their swords raised, parallel to the ground, circling one another. Suddenly, Gaius struck! Gionoci inhaled sharply in pain, dropping his sword as a sudden pain shot up his arm, a long bloody gash the source of the throbbing, stinging pain.

Before Gionoci could blink, a blade was at his throat. He knew what he was expected to do, and turned his gaze to the sponsor. He lifted his right arm above his head as a sign of defeat, his heart pounding in his ears, fearful sweat dripping down the back of his neck. The eager throng of spectators hollered, the fight having been quite enjoyable, even for a battle between two novices. Hoclonius rose from his seat, glancing down at the two men in the arena- one prepared to die, the other prepared to take a life. It was the kind of thrill and rebellion against mortality that Romans loved; it was a large part of their culture, to say the least.

The aged politician held out his arm, forming his hand into a fist, his thumb protruding to the side. Should he send the crowd into a joyous frenzy and earn himself more favour? Or should he feel for this young man, admire his skill and his bravery? One way, there would be no profit. The other way, he would have to spend money to reimburse the gladiator's death. His thumb rose up to the sky, and the tension lifted. There would be other days to earn favour from the crowd, without spending so much money over needlessly spilt blood.

Gionoci sighed heavily, taking off his helmet and setting it down. After the fight, he'd quickly been escorted out of the arena and back into the building where the armour and weaponry was kept. He tugged the straps off of his greaves, kicking off the metal plates. Pain throbbed his him leg and his arm, and he just wanted to wake up and find out it had been a nightmare of some sort.

He got up, leaving his things where they were, and headed for the infirmary. Being the first fight of the day, no one else was there and the healer sat snoring in his chair. Gionoci kicked the leg of the chair somewhat spitefully, taking out his frustrations at having lost. The practitioner snorted, scrambling into wakefulness.

"Sorry. What can I do for you?" Gionoci wordlessly extended his arm and pointed to his leg, sitting down to let the man take care of his wounds. He sighed again, angry with himself for having lost so easily. He should have put up more of a fight. Still, he supposed, at least he was alive. That was one thing to be thankful of… or was it? It would really hurt his reputation if he'd hoped to become a good enough gladiator to be freed. He heard footsteps from out in the hallway, and looked up to see the man in the doorway.

"I lost my first fight too. I wouldn't worry about it- look where I am now." Gionoci grinned a bit, recognising Iami. Now that his helmet wasn't obstructing his vision, Gionoci could see him clearly. Leaning in the doorway with a small smirk, Iami made quite an impressive sight, despite the fact that he was a touch slender. His long, erratic hair made Gionoci wonder how on earth he managed to fit it all into a helmet, his deep tan giving the impression that he was from a more exotic country. The blonde decided not to inquire- there were more important things to discuss.

"Yeah… he just came at me so fast… I didn't know where he was going to strike and couldn't react in time to block him. Iami nodded thoughtfully, grinning.

"That's a useful trick- he was probably keeping his chin up so that you wouldn't be able to guess where he was looking, and planning to hit. As for speed, it's all about getting used to moving with the armour. Don't worry- you'll adjust." Gionoci grinned in return, wincing as the medic rubbed a powder into the wound on his arm.

"I guess." Iami got up from his position against the doorway, tugging on his tunic and adjusting it about his shoulders. Only Roman citizens were allowed to wear togas, but from the make of his outfit, if he had wanted to Iami could certainly afford one. Gionoci was told that money was given for especially spectacular fights- a good fifty denarii, he'd heard rumours of.

"I'm off to watch the rest of the fights. Don't lose hope." With that Iami went off, disappearing quickly into the mob that sat around the arena, the uproar increasing as a gladiator made a hit. Gionoci bit his lip, looking out the window wistfully, and hoped he'd manage to win his next fight, possibly later that month when someone else decided to hold a gladiatorial games event for the sake of popularity.

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Optimus – Excellent (loosely used in this sense)

Felix – Lucky (loosely translated, meaning, in this context, 'good luck')

Pugna! – Fight!


	7. Eugi et Iami Dormiunt

Well, some of you have been asking for s'more romance, as that is one of the genres of this story, and so there shall be more romance. The problem is, only one couple has actually been introduced to one-another. XD so I'm hoping this chapter will fix that. Seto comes in a lot later, just so you guys know, because he lives in Rome, not Pompeii.

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Bacura sighed, rubbing his temple. Overall it had been a good day for his school at the arena, but Gionoci's failure had been a huge disappointment.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to keep you training for another couple of months or so before I can put you back in the arena. There's no other way around it- you've lost your chances at popularity, so you have to wait a bit until your defeat is forgotten. Not to mention you need more time to train and work on your balance and battle tactics. There's more to-"

"Yeah yeah, I know. More to battle than swinging a sword. I heard you the first fifteen times." Gionoci retorted, his pride still very sore from loss. His wounds would heal, but it had taken a huge chunk out of his self-esteem, and, to tell the truth, he was pissed.

"You have no right to speak to me like that." Bacura snapped, having little patience for Gionoci's whining at the moment. "You will stay at the school for three months!"

"But you just said two-"

"Keep arguing and I'll make it four! Now get to the dining hall and eat some dinner- I pay for your meals, so you'd better not be wasting my time and _denarii_." Gionoci wilted a bit under his master's fierce glare, and turned with a huff, storming off to the warm meal that he hoped would distract him from this mess for a little while.

Eugi looked down the row of tables, smiling as he saw his best friend approaching.

"There he is, Riou! _Salve, _Gionoci!" Eugi waved. Riou glanced at the expression on Gionoci's face, then leaned over to whisper to Eugi.

"_Non est laetus, amici._" Gionoci heard this, snorting as he sat down with his wooden plate and chalice.

"Damn right, I'm not happy! Who does that _asinus_ think he is? I can't hang back for three whole months! I'll die from age or boredom before I get back in the arena!" Gionoci fumed, taking a swig of his cheap wine and slamming it down on the table, making Eugi jump a bit.

"I take it the battle didn't go well?"

"He wasn't that bad, actually." A strange voice floated over from nearby, and someone Eugi didn't recognise approached their section of table. Gionoci smiled a bit when he saw the man, however, and motioned for him to sit down.

"Eugi, Riou, this is Iami. We met before the battle, and spoke a bit afterwards." Iami nodded, seating himself with a certain poise that inclined Eugi to take a second look at this stranger. Gionoci suddenly remembered something. "Oh, Iami- how did **your** battle go?" Iami grinned, jumping at the chance to boast and make a good first impression. It was, after all, simply the way his mind worked.

"It wasn't much really- they stuck me in the arena with a bunch of lions and I had to fight them at all once. I think there were three or four, but I didn't have time to count." Riou's mouth gaped in awe; taking on four lions at once was hardly what he'd have called "not much, really." Eugi's eyes sparkled with interest, finding himself fascinated with how outlandish (even for the mixed races of gladiator ranks) everything about Iami seemed to be. From his dark skin and strange accent to the dignity with which he sat and tilted his chin.

"How did you fight them off?" Eugi asked eagerly, wondering how one was to take on wild beasts. He'd only been trained in man to man combat, and had thought that only Bestiarius type gladiators fought with animals. "Do you normally fight animals?" Iami laughed a bit, a smirk forming at the corner of his mouth.

"One question at a time, friend. What did you say your name was? Riou?"

"He's Riou. I'm Eugi." The younger man corrected politely, although quickly so as to sooner find out the details of Iami's battle.

"Ah yes- my apologies. Well, I don't normally fight animals, but they could only afford one really good gladiator, so they used beasts instead. It gave a pretty exciting show, so I'm told." Eugi nodded, absentmindedly taking a bite of whatever cooked meat they were being served that day- he couldn't tell but he was quite sure it was pigeon; Bacura wasn't so kind as to feed them all peacock.

"But how did you fight them off?"

"Well, one of them got scared by the crowd, and stood in the corner like a lamb," at this Gionoci actually chuckled aloud, improving his mood a bit, "while the other two or three came at me, fast as a chariot racing beside the Nile! I managed to hold them off with my shield, but I knew if I wasn't careful they'd bowl me over, and that would be my end. So I cut out one's eyes, then rammed my blade into the throat of another. Then the other tried to get me from behind, so I got him right across the face, and then struck him in the heart."

"Incredible!" Riou gasped, almost as enthralled as Eugi, neither having seen a real battle before. Iami smiled, sipping from his wine and grinning at their excitement. They reminded him of children. He had glorified his tale a touch- he hadn't exactly gotten away unharmed like he'd made it out to be. There was a bite in his left leg, and a long set of claw marks leading down his shoulder and back. The truth was, he didn't want them to feel sorry for him or make a big deal out of little injuries.

Gionoci got up, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He'd gone through his plate of food quickly; eating was his way of dealing with his problems, and it was lucky he'd led an easy life prior to this. Otherwise, he'd probably look like a barrel of wine- and he'd probably be the same colour too.

"I'm heading up to my room- I could use a good rest."

"Okay. _Vale_! I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"Yep. _Valete _Eugi, Riou, Iami."

"See you."

"_Vale._"

After Gionoci left, the three spent another good couple of hours conversing enthusiastically about battles and legends and heroes and conquerors, and many other things of that sort. When finally they decided to go to bed, they were the only ones in the hall, and most of the candles were already extinguished. Riou glanced outside at the sky, cursing lightly under his breath.

"I've got to go sleep- I'll be up early tomorrow for some new training program Bacura's introducing. I've heard rumours of running laps while carrying blocks of stone on our backs- I don't think I want to be half-asleep for that." Riou excused himself, and disappeared down the corridor. Eugi stifled a yawn, turning to look at Iami.

"I might as well be off too. I've exhausted my mouth and mind with all this chatter- it's about time I gave both a rest." Iami laughed at the comment, crossing his arms a bit.

"That's not to say I didn't get my fair share of talking in though."

"Oh no, not at all." They both chortled, although the laughter was softened by tiredness.

"Yes, we should probably get some sleep. I didn't want to mention this to Riou, but that new training program is my idea. I spoke to Bacura earlier about it, and he agreed to try it out." Iami grinned softly.

"You're really going to make them run with stone blocks on their backs?" Eugi's eyes widened, but Iami shook his head.

"No no, Riou said it himself- that's just a rumour. The idea is to run with packs of wood tied to your backs, adding more each week as you build up your muscles. The idea is that it'll help you adjust to the weight of the armour. I actually got the idea from Gionoci talking about how heavy the armour seemed and how slow he felt." Eugi nodded, obviously impressed.

"That's clever."

"_Mens sana in corpore sano__._" Iami replied. "But I really must be going. Perhaps I'll see you again later. It was a pleasure meeting you, Eugi."

"Pleasure meeting you too."

----------------------------------------------A Week Later---------------------------------------------

Eugi grinned widely, although he seemed less child-like and innocent, the pride showing clearly in his eyes.

"Awesome! You totally creamed that guy, Eugi!" Gionoci praised, glad that his friend won his first match. "Even that jerk Bacura was impressed! I didn't know you had that kind of fire in you!" Eugi grinned.

The man he'd been up against was at a disadvantage from the moment Eugi had set his eyes upon him- he looked like the Roman soldier that had raped Eugi's mother in front of his eyes. Hatred fuelled his every swing of the net, passion for revenge burning as he rammed his trident right through the hardened leather shield of his adversary.

"Well done." Iami stated, patting him heartily on the shoulder. "I know that I'm impressed; who cares what Bacura thinks?" Iami watched his face light up, and he noticed absentmindedly how cute it made him look. Over the course of the last week, the two had bonded quickly, as if they were meant to be friends. Maybe even something more, if the signs were right- Riou had caught the way Iami glanced at Eugi while he wasn't looking, and how Eugi would watch Iami leaving without tearing his eyes from him once.

Riou had considered trying to get them together, but he figured that it'd be best not to get involved. In just seven days, Eugi had developed a huge crush on Iami. He was everything Eugi wasn't, not to mention lean and muscular from all the battles he'd been in. In fact, it would have been a good bet that Eugi wasn't the only one with a thing for Iami; popular gladiators were often admired by the young women (and some young men) of Pompeii.

"Hey guys," Gionoci grinned mischievously, "why don't we celebrate Eugi's win with a little fun tonight? I don't think any of us have training or practice of any sort." All of them shook there heads, but were quiet, interested in what Gionoci's idea might be. "I say we take a beaker of wine from the table instead of drinking it, and bring it to Eugi's room. We can drink and talk all through the night, as long as we keep our voices low."

They all agreed that this was a splendid plan, and each did their part to try and sneak the jug of wine from the dining hall into Eugi's quarters. The group of friends sat around the small room, sprawled out and relaxed by the taste of wine in their mouths. After a while they got to talking about their pasts, and Gionoci and Eugi told the other two about the destruction of their village. Riou was aghast, but Iami merely shook his head sadly.

"It's sick, really. A flicker of defiance and they beat you down. The great Empire of Rome… pah." Riou seemed a bit worried about his open show of dislike, but decided not to comment.

The conversation turned to politics, and after a while they all calmed down a bit, Gionoci falling asleep sitting against the wall; he'd had a bit too much wine. After a few hours more of confabulation, Riou closed his eyes for a moment, and dropped right into sleep. Eugi chuckled, but was a touch drowsy as well.

"So Iami…" He mumbled, leaning back against his bed and glancing over at his friend, "you never told me how you wound up as a gladiator." Iami, seated beside him, met his gaze.

"Well… I'm originally from Egypt. I don't remember much about my family back then, all I know is that a rich relative of mine gave me as a gift to some Roman nobleman to get on good terms with the boss, so to speak." Iami glared at the floor bitterly, and Eugi winced.

"It'd hurt to have your own relative just give you away like that…"

"Yeah, but I didn't go peaceably. I was about nine at the time, but I gave the guards a few black eyes before they managed to get me in chains. That was when I got my first taste of the adrenaline of battle." Iami smiled lopsidedly, and Eugi nodded, knowing what he meant. "Slavery wasn't bad, at first. My 'master' had another slave teach me how to sing, and he used me as entertainment for his big parties. But then when I turned twelve, things started to change.

His old hag of a wife (she used to yell at me a lot) died, and he started molesting me. It was really subtle in the beginning, but one day he called me to his bedroom and told me to take off my clothes." Iami's face was distorted with hatred and disgust, and his voice had lowered to the level of a whisper. Eugi's eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"So what did you do?"

"I kicked him in the nuts, told him to kiss my ass, and ran like hell. He caught me eventually, but instead of keeping me around the house, he sold me to a mill. Gods- that mill was hell. I won't go into that right now though. The way the story goes is, when I was eighteen I punched the daylights out of the mill owner. I don't even remember why anymore. They were going to have me killed, but the old master of the gladiator school asked how much they wanted for me. So they figured they'd get rid of me and have their money too, and so agreed to sell me to the school. The old gladiator school master is dead now, but he was a good-hearted man." Eugi nodded solemnly, looking at the floor thoughtfully.

"That's… pretty bad. I guess I never realised everyone here has some kind of story to tell… kind of selfish of me to think I'm the only one that had a rough life." Iami shook his head, putting an arm around Eugi without realising what he'd done.

"Not selfish at all. There are so many more selfish things people could do. Don't call yourself that… that word doesn't fit you at all." Eugi nodded groggily, only half noticing hand resting on his waist. No more words passed between them, and eventually the two fell asleep in each other's arms. They wouldn't wake up like that, but it only went to show that _in vino est veritas._

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denarii – the currency of Ancient Rome

salve – hello, greetings

non est laetus, amici. – he is not happy, my friend

asinus – ass, donkey

vale – goodbye to you (singular)

valete – goodbye to you (plural)

mens sana in corpore sano. – a healthy mind in a healthy body.

in vino est veritas. – in wine there is truth.

UPDATE: I fixed my little error with the "mens sana" etc. quote. I apologise for that- I didn't have my latin notes with me and I wrote this at one a.m. I hope you can forgive me . And thank you, Anna, for pointing that out. Anyways, hope you enjoyed and that this minute amount of excuse for fluff was good enough for now. U


	8. Sanguis Fluit

Guess who I'm going to try and bring in this chapter? That's right… Seto-Kun! But shh, don't tell Gio! XD

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Gionoci yawned widely, stretching and cracking his neck. He went to reach for his tunic, then decided against it- it was hot enough already, and once training started he'd heat up quickly. There was no sense in wearing more than he had to. With that decided, he rolled out of bed and got to his feet. Riou wandered by his doorway, glancing in.

"Better hurry up, Gionoci. Training's going to start soon." A grumble came from the taller man in reply, and Gionoci forced himself out of the room and into the hallway, yawning yet again in protest of the early hours they trained. He made his way with Riou down to the field, walking slowly compared to Riou's quick stride. When they finally got there, Bacura had already begun giving out instructions.

"…and after you're done your laps, I want you all to bathe. I've trod on carcasses that smell better than you lot. Not to mention-" Bacura suddenly noticed the appearance of the tardy pair, crossing his arms and frowning. "I hope you two had a good sleep while the others were up at the hour they were summoned. Hardly fair that you should get extra sleep when they don't… wouldn't you agree?"

Riou swallowed, afraid to answer in case he said the wrong thing. "That's what I thought." He smirked dangerously, and Gionoci felt a chill run up his spine. "Since you two like so much extra of everything, let's be even more unfair, and give you extra wood to carry on the sprint today, hm?" Gionoci's eyes widened.

"That's not fair!" Bacura smirked.

"Exactly." Riou sighed, submitting to his fate as soon as he heard the tone of the school-master's voice. There would be no bargaining with him. Bacura quickly adjusted two extra log splices into each of the leftover packs, pulling the knot tight again. Riou's eyes widened when he picked up both packs and slung them over his shoulders like they weighed nothing. He handed one to Gionoci, and the other to Riou. Once the packs were strapped on, their posture was visibly worsened while they adjusted under the load.

Bacura shouted, and they all ran off. Gionoci kept up surprisingly well with the leaders despite his handicap, but Riou was under a lot more strain. Bacura could see from where he stood how even after the first lap sweat had already condensed on his brow. Riou fought his aching muscles with all his willpower, just to prove to Bacura that he wasn't a weakling like he thought. He'd prove to him that he could be a gladiator if he wanted to be. He'd show him. Bacura's eyebrow raised as suddenly Riou sped up, overtaking the people at the back of the crowd. When he passed by on his third lap, his chest heaved and his neck and face were bright red, but still he ran on. Bacura was almost sure that as Riou passed him, he sped up even more.

Riou was in a world of pain he'd never experienced, his mouth and throat dry, his lungs crying out in protest every time he inhaled. His backbone groaned in complaint, and his leg muscles were in pain to the point that they'd gone numb. He stumbled, and caught himself again, then continued running at a slower pace. Gionoci was worn down by this time as well, and had been dragged down to fifth in line. Bacura frowned, and motioned to a nearby slave.

"You there! Go get me some water." The slave nodded and ran off to do as his master bid. Few residences had water pipes leading directly into the house, but because Bacura was quite rich from his profession and had many needs for water, he'd been approved for a direct from the city reservoir.

When at last the group of men finished their fourth and final lap (having run about a mile in the course of less than six minutes) they were all tired, but none to the extent as Riou. He lagged behind at a jog, tripping the last few metres and falling to his knees. With a groan, he got to his feet and wobbly walked the rest of the way, his shoulders hunched right over under the weight of six pieces of wood.

Bacura came over to him when he collapsed, finally done with his laps. Riou didn't even have the energy to take off the ropes that held the wood to his back. Everything hurt; moving, breathing, talking, everything. Bacura produced a knife and sawed the rope from his shoulders, kicking the wood out from under him. Riou lay in the grass, panting heavily, being glared on by the harsh Pompeian sun.

"You know your muscles will clench up and hurt more if you don't walk around a bit."

"G… go to hell, Bacura…" Bacura blinked, taken aback at Riou's gasped insult. He opened his eyes, which were filled with genuine loathing. "I did… what you told me to. What m… more d'you want?" Bacura felt a sharp tug in his chest. It hurt. He knelt beside Riou, lost for words, and beckoned the slave over.

"Okay…" He muttered, after taking a moment to get over the initial shock. "I see your point. Here." He handed the bowl of water to Riou, noticing how he winced in simply moving his arms to take the offered water. It dribbled down his cheeks and neck as the young man swallowed eagerly, his throat parched and the cool liquid easing the burning sensation.

Bacura watched him for a moment then turned to the slave. "Get him some too," he commanded, motioning to Gionoci. The servant scurried to do as he was told, wary of Bacura's temper in this blistering heat. Riou set the bowl down, gasping for air quietly. Bacura then turned his attention to the rest of the gladiators in training, crossing his arms. "Alright. Stretch and then head to the baths. I've got a battle to go see over, so I'm leaving you under the command of Alexander. If you don't come out of those tubs clean, he's got my permission to throw you back in head first."

A light chuckle ran through the bunch; Alexander didn't have the heart to kill a beetle, let alone throw a man into a tub of hot water face first. Although he certainly had the bulk. Bacura knew this of course, and he was just being as friendly as Bacura could be. He glanced back over at his shoulder once, then walked to the front of the school and mounted his horse. It was off to the arena again.

The wind whistled beside Eugi's ear as the sword rushed past his head. His net lay forgotten on the ground, entwined with the other man's shield. He twirled the trident deftly, whacking his opponent in the ribs with the staff end and making him stumble back a pace. The crowd roared in approval, now standing and shaking their fists in encouragement, yelling out various cheers, both heartening and obscene.

Bacura sat down quickly, having arrived a bit late. Things were going very well for him these days; the crowd seemed to favour Eugi already, despite the fact that this was only his second match. The schoolmaster winced and then grinned as the two weapons shrieked against each other in a clash of strength. Eugi pulled back, turning his shoulder to the blade of his enemy. It clunked against his metal shoulder plate, and he flinched momentarily. Then he was on him again, jabbing out with his trident, parrying the skilled blows of the sword, using his light, mostly armour-free body as an advantage. The other man was fast, but Eugi was faster. There was a sick noise as the prongs of his trident rammed into his adversary's arm; the horde of spectators went wild, waving their arms and shouting praise. The crowd roared with sanguinary desire, lusting for the show of mortality that made their own lives so much more whole.

Eugi took his trident in both hands and pushed him back, throwing him to the ground. His sword was thrown from his grasp, and blood began to wind along his bicep, dripping from his elbow. The crowd howled its approval, crying out for the final act of this morbid play. The thumbs were formed, jabbing in the direction of the underworld to which this failure would surely go. Some took it a step further, thrusting their thumbs at their throats in indication of what they longed to see.

Eugi glanced at the host of the games, who formed his thumb and just as eagerly motioned to his windpipe. The loser's fate was determined. He turned his steely, unperturbed gaze to the gladiator at his mercy, meeting his gaze through the other man's helmet. He felt sorry for him, but if he didn't follow up on his duties, his blood would be shed to satisfy the mob. If Eugi died, he'd never avenge his family and his village. That was why he was here, wasn't it? He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the screams of delight from the onlookers as he rammed his trident into the jugular of another human being. Eugi's stomach lurched, but there was no regretting what he'd done. He had to consider himself lucky. Lucky that it hadn't been Gionoci he'd had to kill, or Riou, or Diodorus, or any of his other friends. Lucky. He left the arena, flicking the blood from the prongs of his trident. Lucky. Like hell.

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Short, I know. I wanted to update quickly. What do you guys think? Is there any romance you'd specifically like to see? Oh, btw, I know I said Seto would come in this chappie. Sorry. U I didn't anticipate Eugi's battle, and that stalled the plotline a bit. But I promise that Seto will come in next chappie. Promise. :3


	9. Tu Eras Perterritus

Okay, since you guys seem to like fast updates, I'm starting this one the same day I submit that last one. This is, indeed, the chapter where Seto-kun comes in. Now, on with the fanfiction!

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Eugi yawned, covering his mouth and leaning against the wall of his room. He hadn't been able to sleep much lately, and he'd been having many nightmares where he'd kill someone and take of their helmet to find it was Gionoci, Riou or Iami. He'd just woken up from such a dream, and wiped the sweat from his forehead off on the back of his head. Perspiration clung to the back of his neck, and he felt uncomfortably warm. It was still cool outside, and the sun wouldn't rise for a good hour at least.

He pulled on a thin tunic, and wandered out into the hallway. He tread quietly so as not to wake anyone up, afraid of the scolding it could bring from Bacura. Eugi roamed out into the courtyard, his bare feet enjoying the sensation of the dew-covered grass tickling at his heels. It was a nice feeling compared to the ground at the arena, soft and relaxing as opposed to the nervous shifting of sand between his toes. Suddenly, he heard a pair of voices from Bacura's quarters, a building just in front of the school with an open veranda surrounded by columns. The conversation floated down to Eugi's ears, and he froze, listening.

"I don't care what you think. I could have left this damned 'profession' months ago. You think I slaughter people because I enjoy it?"

"I know you don't enjoy it- I never said you did. That's not the point. I'm just trying to make a living."

"So then you've put the past behind you? You don't want revenge for everything he did to you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. You may have had a rough life as a pretty little slave boy, but I did just fine on my own. I can take care of myself."

"Don't lie to me. I heard your cries at night. If you keep running from everything you're afraid of-"

"I'm not afraid!"

"Then why are you still running?"

"Shut the hell up! You don't know anything about me! You were a spoiled little brat- you deserved what you got!"

"And you didn't?"

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Doesn't it matter to you at all that we went through the same thing? We can get revenge!"

"_Flocci non facio!_ _Tu pestis es! Abi!_"

"_Sed tu caudex es! Tu eum timebas!_"

"_Non! Abi!_"

"_Mendax es! Tu eras perterritus! Ego eram perterritus!_"

"_Abi!_"

"_Nos eramus perterriti._ But we don't have to be afraid any more. We can do to him everything he did to us. We can show him how much fear and pain he-"

"Enough!" Eugi knew now that it was Bacura and Iami that were arguing, although he only just guessed at what they were arguing about. Bacura's face was red by now, and he looked ready to punch Iami in the face. "This isn't even what we started this conversation about! Get out of my house, get off my porch, and get out of my face! I'm sick of you thinking you can tell me what I want. I am the one in power here! Things have changed, Iami! I'm the master, you the slave! Now begone before I lose my temper!"

Eugi decided now would be the time to make himself scarce, and ducked back into the building from which he'd emerged. Iami passed by, too annoyed to pay heed to his surroundings, and for a moment Eugi considered following him to make sure he'd be okay. Then he decided against it, and tiptoed back to his room. It wouldn't be much, but a little extra rest couldn't hurt.

"Get up!" Bacura shouted, throwing a wooden chalice at the wall above Eugi's head. The young man awoke with a start, nodding sleepily and rolling out of bed. Bacura was in poor temper, and he wasn't going to hide it. "Get some food to eat and get in the cart with the other two! We're going to pay the senator a visit, so stir those weak little things you call legs and get moving!!" He roared, leaving with an impatient air about the swirl of his toga.

Eugi frowned, trying to take in everything Bacura had said. The senator? Why were they… what? He stumbled out of his room, rubbing his eyes. On a second thought, he stuck his head back in his room and grabbed his nicer tunic, pulling it on over his head as he walked down the hall. He ran to the kitchen where a slave was waiting for him with a small loaf of bread, the normal breakfast for any Roman. He grabbed it with a nod and head out for the front of the school where the stables were.

Bacura glared at him from atop his handsome black horse, nodding his head at the cart where two other gladiators sat. Eugi hopped into the back, noticing that his trident and other equipment were already there. Bacura snorted and turned, shouting and setting off at a quick pace. The man driving the cart-horse cracked his whip, and with a jolt they were off as well.

Eugi turned to the man nearest him, who turned out to be Diodorus.

"What's going on? I heard something about the senator?" Eugi queried, trying to understand what was occurring. Diodorus nodded.

"The senator paid Bacura to bring three of his gladiators up to his house. He's having a huge party or something- a lot of important people are going to be there. So we're the 'entertainment.'" Eugi nodded, deciding against showing his disgust. The other gladiator, a man Eugi didn't recognise, nodded in concurrence.

"I hear rumours the Emperor is going to be there! The senator asked for each of us by name, so I'm told. He's obviously trying to impress someone really important- who else could it be but the Emperor himself?" Eugi frowned.

"The senator asked for me by name?"

"He must have. There's no way you'd have just been randomly selected." Eugi nodded, glancing at his trident nervously as it clattered against the cart's floor.

Senator Thrasymachus leaned back in his chair and lifted his gold-rimmed goblet to the sky, nearly sloshing wine over its edge.

"Now let us drink and feast in the name of the great Emperor Kaiba himself!" There was a cry of the name throughout the room, and then silence as everyone took a hearty swig of their wine.

That very man sat smugly beside his plump host, taking a sip from his own much finer chalice and setting it down. Power. He could feel everyone watching him out of the corners of their eyes- he was the one they respected, knew, and perhaps even feared. The people of Rome, no, of all his empire loved him. If they didn't, they were killed as criminals. It was simple enough.

"May the gods bless your fortune and household," He replied automatically, the courteous response to a feast in his name. They were mere words, but from him they were mountains of praise. They all worshipped him as a Caesar, no, as a God. A smirk appeared on his clean-shaven face, his jewel-encrusted fingers brushing through his hair absentmindedly, watching his underlings practically inhale the fine food set out before them.

He leaned over to the senator, bored already of the mindless vigour with which they all showed food in their mouths, laughing and talking as they did so.

"When, good senator, does the entertainment arrive?" A bead of sweat appeared on the portly man's face, and he glanced at the doorways.

"Any moment now, my Emperor. I spared no expense for your amusement, and have called out the uprising students at the-"

"Yes, yes," he interrupted, waving his hand in dismissal. "No need to babble. I was just wondering." Suddenly a slave scurried up to Thrasymachus, whispering something in his ear.

"Ah good," he replied, shaking his head, making his many chins wobble. "Send them in. Get a trumpeter or something for a big entrance, you know, whatever." He picked up a roasted leg of peacock, biting into the tender meat and swallowing half of it in one chomp.

Once he'd stuffed the rest of it down his gullet, he rubbed his greasy hands in the slave's hair, and then slapped his back. "Get on with it!" The slave scuttled off to do as he was told, ruing his mother for birthing him into a life of slavery.

Bacura looked up when the door opened, the servant coming back from announcing their arrival. The other men were in the process of putting their armour on, although Eugi was prepared much earlier than they, because of what little he had to put on. He noticed that his net hadn't been brought, nor the others' shields. He wondered where they'd be fighting- this was just a huge villa, and he didn't see any indoor arena of any sort.

"Master is ready for you. Please, come in at once; Master Bacura, I am told to trust you'll know what to do." Bacura nodded, digging through his pockets and placing a coin in the slave's hand.

"Indeed. For your troubles." The slave nodded, smiling.

"_Dominus est liberus._" Bacura shook his head, frowning.

"No, I'm not. I just don't like your master, nor do I like the way he treats people below him. Don't misjudge me." He spat, and the servant's smile disappeared with a solemn nod. Eugi shot a glare at Bacura's back. Even when he was doing something nice, he was cold and cruel.

The slave disappeared into the other room, and Bacura took charge. Once everyone was dressed in minimal armour, he told the three to follow him in single file. He turned to each of them and looked at them meaningfully.

"Now remember, if the Emperor talks to you, you have to answer him. Don't meet his gaze, and **don't** turn your back to him. Don't hail the host before you fight- he's not paying you to talk. Just fight when I tell you to, and stop when I tell you to."

"Yes sir." Diodorus snorted sarcastically, and Bacura swiftly slapped him upside the head.

"An attitude like that to the Emperor would've gotten you killed. Be glad I'm only a school-master, and watch your tongue in the future, lest I cut it out of your mouth. Now, we've stalled enough. Come on." With that he turned and strode out the door, the gladiators following closely behind.

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To add a bit of mystery to the story, I'm not going to translate the argument.

Dominus est liberus – master (Bacura) is generous

Well, I was going to have the battle-ness in this chapter, but I'm not feeling especially inspired to write a battle scene at the moment, so I'll just submit it as this. Hope you guys like it, and yes, I've been trying to update more frequently. Anything you'd like to see happen, let me know and I'll consider it. The plot is still just in basic outline stage, so I have plenty of wiggle room XD


	10. Parvior

A hush fell over the rowdy party as a tall, robed man strode into the centre of the room. He bowed deeply to the Emperor and the Senator, then rose again and extended his arms.

"Tonight the Bacura School of Gladiators shall give a private performance worthy of only the great Emperor Kaiba himself. For your entertainment, I proudly introduce the gladiators specially selected for this occasion. Diodorus the swift, boasting a strike like that of a cobra! Rumius the merciless, with great power and strength! Finally, Eugi the vengeful, whose soul burns with the flames of loathing! Three great gladiators, each facing the other for better or for worse! May the gods themselves fill each of them with the roar of Titans and the might of Vesuvius!" Eugi swallowed nervously, clutching his trident. Bacura certainly had a way with words. "I present to you… Diodorus versus Rumius! _Pugna_!"

The two moved into the ring that had been formed by tables, watched from every angle by the wealthy spectators that had the privilege of eating at a Senator's party. The two men circled slowly, their swords raised parallel to the floor, their eyes smouldering behind the visors of their helmets. Diodorus' feathered adornment swayed behind him as he stepped tentatively sideways, following the movement of his friend-turned-opponent.

One of the audience members shouted something along the lines of "get on with it!" and Diodorus leapt forward, swinging his blade with a nimble grace that surprised Eugi. There was a scraping noise as the weapons clashed together, and both men put their weight into their swords, trying to force the other back into a stumble. Strength won out over agility, and Diodorus cried out as Rumius pushed him back. He lashed out blindly, and his strike must have been guided by the goddess Bellona herself; the blade scored across Rumius' face. Though he wore a helmet, the clout was enough to throw off his balance and render his attack futile.

The onlookers cheered, and though the Emperor gave off an air of being indifferent, the truth was that even he was on the edge of his _triclinia_. Diodorus and Rumius circled again, and Rumius struck first, eager to gain the ground he'd lost. The blades clashed and drew apart, then clashed again as Rumius attacked ruthlessly, Diodorus defending with, as Bacura said, "the swiftness of a cobra's strike." Their swords glittered wickedly in the light of the oil lamps, the smoke let off adding to the dangerous atmosphere.

Sweat trickled down Rumius' exposed back, shining off his skin like olive oil. He paused a moment, panting heavily under his helmet, and regretted it instantly. Diodorus struck out, leaving a long gash across his chest. Had he not jumped back just in time, it would have been a deep wound. They both blinked perspiration out of their eyes, breathing heavily in the warm surroundings. Their strikes became more desperate and erratic, and the air whistled around them as they were caught in a dance of strength, speed, and skill. An awed silence settled around the room, the only sound the intermittent clangs of metal on metal.

Suddenly, Rumius bellowed and charged at Diodorus, running into him with his shoulder. He felt a sharp pain in his side as Diodorus fought to defend himself, but wrenched him back and forced the man to the ground. His blade was at his opponent's throat, and the near-silence was broken as the audience burst into applause. They pulled apart, and a couple of men cheered. Bacura pat both of them on the back, murmuring congratulations to Rumius and consolidations to Diodorus.

There was a break in the action for a moment and the party-goers struck up conversation with each other once more, eating all the while. A couple slaves ran up to Bacura with a basin of water and a cloth. Setting it down, one of the slaves went to tend to Rumius' wounds, when Bacura stopped him.

"You don't know what you're doing. You'll make it worse- go away." He grumbled under his breath as the slave left, and took the cloth and soaked it in the basin of water. Rumius eyed him nervously, obviously unsure of the schoolmaster's abilities as a doctor. Bacura caught his glance as he wrung the extra water from the cloth, bringing it to the slash across Rumius' chest. "Don't give me that look. I've been around wounds for longer than you've been alive. I know what I'm doing."

Despite the reassurance, he flinched as Bacura's calloused hand gripped his shoulder to hold him still. The men chattered on in the background, oblivious to the pain that the gladiators were in. Diodorus had been lucky- he'd only suffered bruises to his side and legs. Rumius, although he'd won the match, was in much worse shape. Blood trickled down his torso, and the wound in his hip was fairly deep.

Bacura wiped away the blood, a dark frown frozen on his features. Senator Holconius' bellowing guffaw was heard over the din made by the rest of the crowd, and the ex-gladiator's frown deepened. Eugi watched his expression change, and had the feeling there was something Bacura knew about the Senator that he didn't.

When Rumius' wounds had been cleaned out and wrapped, Bacura stepped forward once more into the centre of the tables. The chatter slowly died down around him, and his voice cut through the remaining conversation.

"Gentlemen, on to the second battle! I give you the victor of the first battle, Rumius!" The listeners cheered a bit, and said man stepped forward. "Facing him, Eugi!" There was applause again, but it was merely in the interest of being polite. Eugi joined Rumius in the ring, his heart racing like a chariot and his knuckles white from gripping his trident.

Bacura strode out of the battle area, and the fight began.

The two circled, but a nervous tension filled the air, and the pause didn't last long. Eugi swung his trident, but Rumius parried it quickly with his own weapon. The retiarius lashed out again from the side, and the previous victor just barely caught it. He tried to get in close with his sword, but was held off by the sharp, wicked prongs that branched from the pole.

Rumius leapt to the side and swung skilfully, cleaving a deep gash into Eugi's arm. A jovial cry arose from the onlookers and a background murmur started up as men exchanged bets. Eugi turned swiftly, fear flashing momentarily in his youthful, unscarred face, then it was gone and a cold determination took over.

Rumius struck again and Eugi met the blade halfway with the staff of his trident, his arms shaking as they pushed against each other. Then Eugi forced him back, a considerable feat considering the difference in size, and jabbed out with his trident. It slashed three long lines into Rumius' chest, and he let loose a shout of pain. Eugi felt bad for him, and stepped back a bit. It was a signal- an opportunity to surrender.

The brawny young man raised an arm in defeat, dropping his sword and clutching his chest in unvoiced agony. There was a general whistling and shouting of praise throughout the room, although a couple curses could be heard as several men lost a few good denarios to the lure of gambling.

Eugi looked around at feasting men, and suddenly made eye contact with none other than the Emperor. A sudden hatred burned in his soul; this man embodied everything that had killed his family. Greed, power, and the Roman Empire were what murdered everything and everyone he'd ever loved. His fist clenched subconsciously, and the two stared each other down, unblinking. Suddenly, Eugi knew what he had to do. He knew where his revenge lay. He had to kill this man. He was the reason that his life had been torn to pieces. He was the cause for all his suffering. He would pay.

He was about to take a step in the Emperor's direction when he felt a firm grip on his shoulder. Eugi turned around and met Bacura's forceful gaze.

"Let it go, shrimp." He hissed, as if he'd read Eugi's thoughts and knew his intentions. "You've many more battles to fight before you die at a body-guard's blade." The gladiator sighed heavily, and let his balled fist relax and unclench. Bacura's frown lessened, and he went back to Rumius to try and help as much as he could.

Emperor Kaiba turned to the Senator, waving a finger absently at Eugi.

"That man- what did you say his name was?"

"Eugi, my Emperor. They say he comes from a village in Gaul that was burnt to the ground several months ago." Seto snorted, turning away and leaning on his crossed arms with a certain air of ennui that threw Hoclonius off his speech.

'Indeed…' Seto thought to himself darkly, 'I can still see the fire of his village burning in his eyes. I shall have to remember that name. I could make a good amount from a determined one like him, so long as he never loses.'

------

Eugi got back to the gladiator school late into the night, the cart bumping and jostling the wounded, exhausted warriors all the way there. Diodorus volunteered to walk Rumius to the infirmary, and so Eugi walked the dark halls on his own. There was something eerie about the way the small oil lamp he carried flickered and cast strange shadows on the walls. As he wandered past someone's room, a face was illuminated against the darkness.

Eugi almost jumped, almost having forgotten that there were no doors separating the rooms from the hallways. The stranger stepped out from the gloom, and Eugi released a sigh when he recognised his friend.

"Iami, you startled me." The taller man nodded, his face giving off an ethereal glow as the light of the lamp danced across his smooth cheeks and supple jaw. Eugi inhaled volubly at the sight of Iami draped against the framework of the door, clad in only a loose cloth that hung poised around his hips in a manner that Eugi was sure defied gravity. The glow of the flame danced across his athletic figure, his lean chest smooth and soft next to the rough, marred beams of wood that supported the doorway.

"You're wounded." Iami stated, waking Eugi from his reverie with his low, purring voice. Eugi absentmindedly moved his hand to the deep lesion in his forearm, wincing.

"Yeah… it'll heal." The young man looked up when a hand was placed on top of his own, the confusion evident in his glittering, violet eyes. "…Iami?" There was no reply other than the gentle stroke of Iami's thumb against the back of Eugi's hand, and then he pulled away and was gone.

"Get some rest, _parvior_. It's late." Eugi grinned sleepily, taking his palm away from his wound and touching it to his heart lightly. His pulse raced, and soft tingling in the back of his hand served as a reminder as to why.

"Little one? I'm no more than a year or two younger than you." Iami smiled from the shadows of his room, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"True. But I speak not of age; you still have the soul of a young child. It's a shame…" his voice became a touch bitter at this, "…a damn shame that you're forced into a life where you cannot embrace that. I would hate to see this hell turn you into a cold-blooded murderer." He lowered his gaze, dark crimson eyes glittering with an unknown emotion. "Like me." This last part was muttered inaudibly, and Eugi didn't catch the tone of his voice. "Anyways, get to bed. The sun will rise in only so long, and I should think you like sleep as much as the next man."

Eugi nodded, his friend's stern tone not one to argue with. Besides, the truth was that he was exhausted. He went down the length of the hall and turned a corner, finding his way to his room and throwing himself down on the straw bed with a sigh. He set the lamp down and extinguished it clumsily, his eyelids already sagging from want of rest.

As he floated off at long last into dreamland, his fist closed loosely, recalling that shockingly gentle touch. He wondered absently what had been going through Iami's mind, and then forgot it as he allowed his mind to be swallowed up into the dark, forgiving bliss that was slumber.

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Pugna! – Fight!

Bellona – A Roman Goddess of War

Triclinia – A sort of couch… type thing… I'm tired, can you tell?

Denarios – Ancient Roman currency

Parvior – Literally translated to mean "smaller" or "littler" but used by Iami as "Little One"

Thar' ye go, guys. Hope you liked it. Battle a little fluff. Please review, it gives me a reason to work on new chapters. : ) Keep reading and I'll keep writing!


	11. Asinus Vituperat

Gionoci sat down at the dinner table, plopping down his bowl and mug, grinning wildly. They'd had their first few practice battles that day, and he'd beaten every opponent that had come up against him. There was, of course, the teeny fact that he'd had at least a month more training than most of them, but that didn't seem to faze him. He shook his head like a dog, trying to shake the honey-blonde bangs out of his eyes, still smiling as though he'd taken on a threesome of rabid titans.

"Look at that grin on your face!" Riou declared, unable to stop himself from smiling at the pride that radiated off the taller man. "You look like a jackal that got away with the Emperors dinner!" This comment only served to make him burst into laughter, slapping the table happily.

"I sure feel like it! I think right now I could take on the world!" Gionoci declared, not noticing the slightly devious grin that Riou's smile had become. The smaller of the two put his elbow down on the table, his expression erupting into an all-out smirk.

"How would you settle for an arm wrestle?" He asked coolly, rolling up his sleeve. Gionoci sniggered.

"You sure? I just took down three men twice the size o' you!"

"Aw, c'mon, it's just a little fun between friends. We've nothing else to do with Eugi off at a battle and Iami training the newest batch." Still, Gionoci missed the dangerous flash of Riou's dark chocolate eyes that indicated he had an ace up his sleeve. The Celt shrugged, laying his own elbow down with a loud bang.

"You're on, then!" A couple people turned around in their seats to watch, a few bets passing through the crowd of more experienced gladiators. The two men clasped hands and took a moment to stare each other down, the competition suddenly changing it from "a little fun between friends" to an all-out battle of might.

They nodded simultaneously, their grips tightening and their exposed biceps bulging with the sudden exertion of strength. Gionoci hadn't pushed himself at first, figuring he shouldn't go too hard on Riou, but when found his own arm was being quickly forced back, discarded that theory. He struggled to regain the advantage, pushing with all he had. Still, Riou's iron-strong grasp compelled Gionoci's strength to slowly wane. A bead of sweat rolled down the blonde's forehead, and he it struck him suddenly that Riou's muscles were far more built up than his own.

Deceived by Riou's frail stature, Gionoci cried out when he felt his knuckles meet with the rough surface of the table. His defeat came as a huge surprise to all but the gladiators who had glimpsed Riou training late into the night, and money changed hands regretfully. Gionoci gazed in awe at Riou, discovering newfound respect for him.

"Holy shit, Riou! You're… you're…" the man's mouth flapped wordlessly in an attempt to find the vocabulary he clearly lacked. After a moment, he considered something and frowned. "You should have been in the arena months ago! Nothing's holding you back."

"Except Bacura," he muttered darkly, taking a mouthful of food and glaring down at his plate as he chewed. Gionoci raised an eyebrow, suddenly remembering his own dinner and wolfing down as much as he could before making his next inquiry.

"Why's 'e 'oldin choo back, den?" He asked around a mouthful of meat, swallowing and washing it down it a hearty swig of wine. Gionoci wiped his mouth on the back of his arm, paying no attention to his complete lack of table manners. He looked eagerly at Riou, awaiting his reply while unconsciously shoving another morsel of food into his overactive gob. When at last the shorter gladiator looked up from his plate, his eyes seemed almost empty, as though he'd just given up on getting to the next level.

"I… I honestly don't know." He mumbled. His food now completely forgotten, he put his elbows on the table and put his face in his hands, his fingers rubbing his temples as he felt a headache coming on. "I don't know." Riou said again, louder this time. "Maybe Bacura's just being an _asinus_ to spite me." Gionoci slammed his fist down on the tabletop out of nowhere, making the plates and cutlery jump up an inch into the air.

"That's just wrong! If he doesn't have a good reason, then he's just being _stultus_! I can't believe anyone can be that stuck-up and cruel!" He roared, his annoyance at the Schoolmaster increased tenfold by how much it was hurting his friend. It was obvious his self-esteem had never been the highest, but being kept back for no good reason was really destroying his confidence.

Gionoci told himself that he was going to confront Bacura about it that night; he refused to let even the "master" get away with such sheer malevolence. Gionoci could stand the general unkindness, but holding back Riou for no good reason was crossing the line. After dinner, he waved goodbye to Riou and went about asking people if they knew where Bacura was. Eventually he found out from an older gladiator that Bacura was last seen heading out to the training area. Gionoci found this rather odd, but followed the man's directions anyways and walked out to the field, determination in his stride.

Eventually he heard the sound of intermittent 'thunk's coming from the back of the light meadow. At first he wondered if Bacura was training or something, then glanced over at movement in the gloom by a tree a few feet ahead. The blonde squinted, suddenly recognising the shadow-lurker to be the man he'd been searching for. He frowned, confusion riddling his expression. If that was Bacura, then who was out training in the dead of night? His thoughts were interrupted as the schoolmaster turned around, intending to head back. Gionoci panicked, not wanting to be caught watching, and ducked into one of the buildings used for storing spare weapons.

He bit his lip and shuffled back into the darkness as far as he could. Bacura slowly passed by, and Gionoci backed right up into a loose spear. A muffled yelp escaped him, and he covered his mouth with both hands quickly, holding his breath. Bacura paused, glancing into the murk of the storage block, then dismissing the noise and continuing on. Gionoci held his breath for another few seconds before releasing it with a relieved sigh.

"Gionoci?"

The addressed man jumped out of his skin, just barely stopping the surprised shout that threatened to leap from his throat. A figure emerged through the doorway, and Gionoci relaxed visibly when he saw it was only Riou.

"Gods, Riou, you shared the crap outta me. What are you doing out here?" In response to this, Riou raised an eyebrow.

"I could ask the same of you. I was training." Riou said, as though it should have been obvious. Gionoci's jaw hung open slightly in surprise.

"That was YOU he was-" Gionoci suddenly caught himself, deciding Riou didn't need to know that Bacura had been watching him train. "I mean- that was you that was training?" Riou's eyebrow rose even higher, and he nodded.

"So… what were you doing standing in the equipment storage room in the middle of the night?" The white-haired man asked, a note of amusement carried in his voice.

"I uh… I uh…" He stuttered, glancing back and forth, then grinned sheepishly. "I was looking for something… uh… yeah, found it!" He laughed nervously and grabbed up a rusting old dagger, holding it above his head as though he'd discovered a chunk of solid gold. "Just came here to get…" he glanced at the item, withering a bit, "…this."

Riou laughed, smiling despite the fact that Gionoci was obviously hiding something.

"Alright then. We should get back." He didn't really mind that Gionoci was keeping something from him. The fact was that he was such a terrible liar, so it probably wouldn't stay a secret for very long.

------

The next day, Gionoci awoke early. Thanks to his failure the previous night, he had become more determined than ever to confront Bacura about holding Riou back. He made his way right down the hallway, his face set and his fists clenched. He strode out of the main building to the front that backed onto the city streets, where Bacura's villa sat. Just as Gionoci approached the building, the owner of the household stepped out, fully clad in a long, elegant toga, his rings glittering in the light of the morning sun. Gionoci swallowed nervously, then made his way up to Bacura.

"Hey, uh, Bacura-"

"What?" The man asked sharply, narrowing his eyes. This had, apparently, been the wrong move. Gionoci narrowed his eyes with increasing annoyance, and crossed his arms.

"I'm here to talk to you about Riou. He's-"

"Weak! Pathetic! Useless!" Bacura interrupted again, waving his hand in dismissal. Gionoci's lower eyelid twitched, his hatred for this man growing.

"Now listen here, you cold-hearted bastard!" He hissed, earning himself Bacura's full attention. Although from the dark glare that was being directed his way, Gionoci wasn't sure that was such a great thing. "Riou's been training damn hard! Hell, he's stronger than I am!"

"Lies." Bacura scoffed, walking past Gionoci, having had enough of his rambling.

"It's true and you know it!" Gionoci shouted at his back, suddenly struck with an idea. "You see it with your own eyes every night! You watch him train; you know how strong he's become and how hard he's worked for it!" It was just a hunch, but apparently it was the right one as Bacura froze in his tracks, whirling around to face him.

"What did you say?" He snapped, although his crimson eyes revealed a flash of apprehension at having possibly been found out.

"You heard me," Gionoci replied, egged on by the reaction he'd gotten out of Bacura, "I know you watch him every night he goes out to train. You know that he could easily be incredible in the arena. Why are you keeping him back?" He demanded, firing the question quickly while Bacura was still in edge.

"That's none of your business! I'll keep him back if I damn well want to!"

"Oh?" Gionoci retorted, quick to use his discovery against Bacura. "Then I guess I'll just tell Riou that he's got a secret admirer." He'd only used the term to annoy his master, and was shocked when Bacura became flustered and his eyes widened.

"Fine! You little weaselling, sneaking, prick! I'll give him the chance to die for the glory of Rome! Oh wait!" He snarled sarcastically, "That's a soldier! He gets to die for the God-dammed _entertainment_ of Rome!" Gionoci flinched visibly, taken aback. "Now get the HELL back to your room and keep your nose out of my business!" Gionoci didn't need to be told off, and scurried back to his quarters.

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asinus – ass, donkey

stultus – stupid

Hope you guys enjoyed it. Don't mind my potty-mouth. Ehehehe. Do any of you see where I'm taking this? Heehee. Well, sorry it always takes me so long to update, and I always have such short chapters. I'm trying to make them longer, but I always find places where I just want to end it. Sorry. Eheh. Please leave reviews, it makes me want to write. When I don't get any reviews, I get depressed and don't feel like writing for the longest time.


	12. Dominus Gionoci Vendet

Eugi stood in the archway that led to the arena, watching as Iami strode out in full battle armour. He seemed to be something completely different from the sombre, friendly man that he was around Eugi and his friends. Even beneath the heavy metal greaves Eugi could tell he was swaggering, and he could just pick out how his head was held high and regally. As he made his appearance, the knight in shining armour strode out into the bright sunlight of Rome.

He'd travelled all this way with a small group of gladiators, and somehow Iami had convinced Bacura to let the young Retiarius tag along to watch. Now standing in the coliseum itself, Eugi stood back in sheer awe, taking in just how many people were up there, crying Iami's name. Iami's hand shot to his side, drawing his slightly curved blade in a flash of metal, flipping it once in the air before grabbing it and making a slash at an invisible foe. Bacura scowled darkly, muttering something about show-offs, but the crowd ate it right up and cheered happily.

Circus tricks, however, were not what the populace of the capital had come to see. They wanted blood. A group of gladiators appeared in the archway opposite Eugi, all sporting long spears. He frowned, fingering the hem of his tunic nervously. _'Are all those men against Iami? I know he's really strong, but that's hardly fair.'_ His questions were answered as Bacura leaned over, a laughing smirk now plastered on his face.

"Don't you worry about little Iami there. I'm more apt to worry about the unlucky fellows about to go up against him." Eugi's frown deepened despite the comment.

"But Bacura-" The schoolmaster shot him a glare- "M-master… there are so many of them… _novem_, _non_, **_decem_**! How could he possibly take on ten gladiators at a time?" Eugi queried, his heart pounding in fear as the trumpeters let loose a loud bellow signifying the beginning of the match. Bacura merely sent him that smirk, crossing his arms.

"Look closer, fool. Those aren't gladiators. They may be trussed up as such, but they walk with fear and are obviously underfed. That's a band of Christians." Bacura laughed disdainfully, shaking his head as if in pity. "This isn't a battle; this is an execution."

Eugi shuddered slightly at the gleeful tone with which Bacura announced this- how anyone could find entertainment in others' pain, he'd never know. Iami stepped forth and braced himself, holding his sword and shield ready.

"_Timeo?_" He shouted mockingly to the first of the men, loud enough for the crowd to hear. "_Non est multus! Cur tu non Iami neceo?_" He jeered through the helmet that hid his unruly, wild hair and dangerous crimson eyes. The prisoner in Gladiator's garb grit his teeth, waving to the others and yelling as he charged at the offensive man that taunted them from behind a shield.

Eugi winced, fascinated but horrified, enthralled but distressed. Iami wasn't even visible… he was a blur, one fluid motion of sinew and steel. Gasp upon pained gasp, the doomed let out their last cries and fell to the ground in a bloody heap. Cheers arose from the crowd, but Eugi felt as though he was going to be sick. Still, his eyes rested stolidly upon Iami, wishing for something, a sign that he understood that what he did was wrong, vile, unsavoury… something! The champion removed his helmet, and to Eugi's horror, he was smirking. He knew it was wrong, certainly… but this was where he belonged. Competing for his life, always fighting. He'd found his freedom without ever removing the chains of slavery… this was his escape. Eugi saw it all in that smirk, and took a staggered step back. Bacura raised an eyebrow at him.

"_Quid est?_" He asked, his flat tone belying the question's normal indication of concern. Eugi struggled for words, biting his lip and shaking his head. Bacura scoffed, turning away. "_Caudex._" Eugi frowned slightly at the insult, but didn't react otherwise. The trumpets blared, and a chariot raced into the arena, driven by a gladiator toting a crossbow; a real one this time. More bloodshed followed, and Eugi very nearly expelled his stomach's contents on Bacura's expensive sandals when Iami was shot thrice in the upper body, yet still moved with the arrows sticking up out of his shoulders and torso like some demonic ornament. Somehow he then managed to topple the horse and pin the gladiator, but it was too fast for Eugi's eyes. With an ignorance of pain, Iami ripped the arrows out of his own flesh to the pleased roars of the crowd. Bacura glanced over at Eugi's pale visage, raising an eyebrow and hoping he hadn't caught a sickness of some sort. Needless to say, it was a very, **very** long day for a certain rookie gladiator.

--------

Iami struggled upright, hissing angrily as the physician touched a chemical-soaked rag to a long, deep gash down his thigh. Several other men groaned around the room in far worse condition than he, but as the crowd favourite, Iami was the priority patient. The fat man hummed quietly as he rubbed several ointments along the gladiator's gashed and torn arms, ignoring his growls of complaint.

"I'll be fine. I don't need all this… this…"

"Shit?" The doctor declared hoarsely, laughing. He knew Iami well, and it was no surprise. Despite the champion's incredible stamina and unmatched skill, he had nearly died on more than one occasion. As the medicines were massaged into his bared back and shoulders, Iami bit his lip against the pain and muttered faceticiously,

"Hope you're not having too much fun." The portly doctor squeezed one of his shoulders somewhat unkindly.

"Yer know I don't swing that way." He chortled, brushing Iami's hair aside to look at a bloody spot on his skull, wrapping a bandage around and across his eye to hold another medicated cloth in place. "Messed yersel' up real bad this time, Iami." A simply shrug from the gladiator resulted in a wince of pain.

"No big deal." Someone lying on a cot in the back of the room moaned loudly, clutching his severed arm. Iami nodded his head in the man's direction. "Your attention would be better spent on him. I can heal fine on my own."

"Yers sucha snob, y'know that?"

"I know. Go help him." The medic sighed at the commanding tone and rose to aid the lesser warrior. Iami sighed heavily, running his fingers through his bangs and tentatively touching the bandages that adorned his entire body. Quickly he assessed the damage, counting five deep sword cuts, twelve arrow wounds, three serious bruises, and a possible twisted ankle. He was attempting to calculate the amount of innumerable scratches when a noise from the doorway earned his attention. Looking up, a small smile graced his battered face.

"Eugi, what are you doing here? Not hurt, I hope?" The shorter man was at his side immediately, wide eyes dancing from scar to scar fearfully.

"No… no… came to see… you…" he mumbled, distracted by how at ease Iami seemed, despite how close he'd come to dying in the arena. "Bacura told me to come get you. We have to head back now… gods, there isn't a piece of you that hasn't been hurt in some way!" Eugi stuttered, gaze rising up to meet that of his friend's.

"Well, there is _one_-"

"Iami!" The younger giggled, cutting him off before he could finish. "I didn't know you had such a dirty mind." Suddenly Eugi felt an arm slide around his waist, pulling him closer.

"You'd be surprised…" Iami purred into his ear, leaning close enough for Eugi to feel his breath against his face.

"Ia…Iami?" He stuttered, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks and to less visible parts of his anatomy. Fearful of what he didn't understand, Eugi pulled away, eyes locked upon the smouldering crimson pools that were Iami's eyes. The older man released him, standing up and walking to the door, a slight limp to his gait.

"We… we'd better be going, then." He leaned to the side and winced, suddenly taking the weight off one of his feet. Eugi felt a strange shudder run through his body at the encounter, but brushed it aside for favour of helping his friend.

"You hurt your leg, didn't you?"

"Just a sprained ankle."

"Let me help."

"How are you going to-" Iami was cut off for a second time that day when Eugi's arm wrapped around his waist, and his own arm was placed upon Eugi's shoulder.

"Come on, I'll be your crutch." Iami looked at him quizzically for a moment, and then smiled. Together the two of them hobbled out of the building and to the cart that would take them back to Pompeii.

--------

When they arrived home again a few days later, the first thing Eugi did was run to find Gionoci. After a few minutes of searching, he checked Gionoci's room, only to find all his personal possessions had been taken from the room, and the bed was stripped bare. Eugi frowned, then whirled around at the sound of footsteps in the corridor behind him. There stood Bacura, a grim expression upon his features.

"I suppose it's time I told you."

"Told me what?" Eugi asked apprehensively, dread growing inside his heart. "What happened to Gionoci? Is he hurt? Sick? Is he… is he dead??"

"No." Bacura said impassively. "I sold him."

"You… you sold him?" Eugi repeated, taking a moment to let the words soak into his mind. "_Amicus meus venderam??_" He hissed coldly, hate burning in his violet eyes. "Why??"

"It was a good deal." The schoolmaster shrugged. "_Septem Denarii_. He fought in the arena while we were gone, as was arranged. A representative of the Emperor himself came and bought him. He was kind of pissed but I'm told the Emperor's guards managed to… subdue him." Bacura smirked, and then turned and left Eugi to stand outside his best friend's room, staring emptily at the wall.

"He's… he's gone…"

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_novem_ – nine

_decem _– ten

_timeo? – _you are afraid?

_Non est multus – _There are not many

_Cur tu non Iami neceo? _- Why do you not kill Iami?

_Quid est? _– What is it?

_Caudex – _Blockhead

_Amicus meus venderam?? – _You sold my friend??

_Septem Denarii – _Seventy Denarii (Currency)


	13. Ego Tu Ameo

Gionoci awoke with a searing pain in his skull, slumped against a wall in what he assumed must have been his new home. Taking a quick glance around the room, the gladiator noticed how nice the furnishings were compared to his old room; the bed was cushioned not with straw, but wool, and he had a writing table and chair all to himself. Not that he knew how to write, but the fact that it was his was comforting. His bag of personal belongings had been slung into the room and sat lifelessly by the foot of the chair. Getting to his feet, the Celt suddenly felt nauseous, and grabbed the wall for support.

"Musta hit my head harder than I thought…" he grumbled, inching his way across the room and flopping down into the chair. He'd been furious when a man came to 'collect' him, and found that he'd been sold by Bacura. He attacked the guards out of sheer anger and fear; his Latin was still rusty and Eugi was the only person that spoke his native tongue, and could translate. Now he'd lost everything… his family, his friends, his home… everything was gone. He didn't even know whom he'd been sold _to_. It certainly didn't look like any normal gladiator school at all; in fact, it looked like the servant quarters of some rich bastard. Suddenly the door was thrown open, and two armed guards came inside, ready to pin him down if need be.

"You're not going to make life difficult for me, are you?" Sounded a male voice with a peculiar accent and a trace of monotone. From behind the two guards a servant pushed his way through, carrying a tray of food. "I can't count the times I've been attacked by the Emperor's newer gladia-" A pause. "Gio? Gionoci?? Is it… is it really you?" The blonde looked up at the servant's face, his eyes widening upon catching sight of a tall brunette with peculiarly shaped hair.

"Ounda?"

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Iami slept for two days straight, his body healing itself in that time. The wounds were much deeper than they appeared at first glance, and the pain was too much for him to simply shake off. Instead, he slumbered. Eugi had been greatly disturbed when he'd been unable to wake his friend, and despite Bacura's mild reassurances broke down into tears at his side. Things were becoming too much. Gionci gone, Iami badly hurt… nobody understood the pain in his heart for his friends, because the only people that might identify with him were gone or in a nearly comatose state. For many hours, Eugi would sit beside Iami's bed, eating when food was brought to him, speaking only when someone spoke directly to him. Tear streaks ran down his face, and every second he feared that Iami would stop breathing altogether, and that he'd be alone… so dreadfully alone.

At one point, Eugi began to sob, and rested his face against his friend's side, pressing against that warmth, wanting to be as close as possible to the comforting sight of his chest rising and falling. As he cried silently, he heard the shifting of fabric, and felt a hand lightly brush against his cheek. Looking up at Iami again, there was no sign of him being awake or aware of the small movement he'd made. A small smile had danced in Eugi's eyes at the time. Then, eight hours later Eugi couldn't take it anymore, and stood up, his legs numb from crouching, and got into the bed. Wrapping his arms around his dear companion, he settled his head against Iami's chest, wary of his wounds. After a minute or two, Iami's eyes fluttered open, although Eugi couldn't see that.

The Champion shifted slowly into wakefulness, aware of a nearby warmth and soft breathing upon his bare torso. He lay still, wishing to stay in this pleasant dream, and hoping never to wake up. Eventually his vision came into focus, and he recognised that figure that was pressed so tenderly against him, arms holding them close together. A soft, fond look came into his eyes, and something in the back of his mind commented on how naturally they seemed to fit together. But then Iami felt something wet touch his chest, and saw the streaks that marred his little _angelus_.

"_Cur tu lacrimas, parvior meus?_" Iami whispered, reaching out to wipe the tear from Eugi's face. When the smaller looked up in surprise and relief, Iami smiled gently, still somewhat drained.

"Iami…" he mumbled, arms wrapping around his neck as he hugged his friend. Iami was certainly surprised by the sudden show of affection, but it wasn't an unwelcome one. "I'm sorry…"

"For what?" Iami asked sleepily.

"For pulling away… back after the battle… I was so afraid…" Eugi choked, "so afraid that you would die in your sleep, thinking that… that I didn't want… didn't want…" Iami put a comforting arm around Eugi's waist, still a bit confused.

"Didn't want what, Eugi?"

"Didn't want… to… to be with you… to… to…" Iami watched him struggling with words, sitting up and pulling Eugi into his lap. When it dawned on him what little Eugi was attempting to say, he bent down and silenced him with a tender kiss upon the forehead.

"It doesn't matter. I'm not dead, am I?" Eugi looked up at him emotionally, eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"You don't understand, Iami… I like you… I really, really like you…" The Champion only smiled in response, holding Eugi's face in one of his palms.

"I like you too, Eugi, but I don't understand why you thought I was going to die…"

"No, you don't get it. I don't like you, I _like_ you. Not like… like, like…"

"Like this?" Iami tilted Eugi's chin up towards him and gently touched their lips together in a fleeting kiss. Eugi blushed brightly, and his gaze remained transfixed upon Iami's.

"_I…ita. _Like that."

Bacura paused outside the doorway, crinkling his nose as he overheard them. 'Weirdos,' he thought spitefully, continuing on down the hallway. It was late, and he wanted to get to his dinner before it got cold. Turning a corner, he ran right into one of his gladiators.

"Watch where you're going, fool!" He snapped, faltering upon discovering the gladiator to be none other than Riou. The young man tried to shoot a glare at his master, but failed so miserably that Bacura simply laughed. "You really need to work on being more of a bastard." As they passed by each other, he heard the other mutter under his breath,

"You're a bastard enough for the both of us…" The schoolmaster whirled around and grabbed Riou's shoulder forcefully, feeling a sting deep inside at the comment.

"What did you say??"

"You heard me!" Riou snapped uncharacteristically, twisting out of his grip. "Leave me alone, Bacura. I just want to go to bed."

"Yeah well…" Bacura faltered, "Screw you!" He watched bitterly as Riou disappeared around the corner, snorting and leaning his head angrily on the wall once he was out of sight. "It's not fair… why is it so easy for that spoiled little prince and his plaything? And why… why is it so hard for me?" He sighed acrimoniously, then with a swish of his cloak was off to his dinner.

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Okay, nothing in this one that wasn't obvious… "Cur tu lacrimas?" means why are you crying, and ita, is (of course) yes. Now, I need to ask you wonderful patient fans an important question. Who (for the next few chapters) would you like the story to center around? Gio Seto, Iami Eugi, or Bacura Riou? Keep in mind, it wouldn't be permanent, just who you think I should focus on for now. Oh, and apologies for shortness. __


	14. Hachus

Eugi panted heavily, perspiration clinging to his temple as he held his weapon ready, shifting and turning with his opponent.

"Now, come at me again!" Iami roared, the wide smirk on his face exposed to the world with the absence of his helmet. Eugi thrust the trident forward and it was cast off like an errant mosquito, batted away by Iami's sword. "Come on now, control your movements. None of this loose, unrestrained nonsense." The shorter man grunted and jabbed again, coming perilously near to his sparring partner's bare flesh before that flashing sword threw him off course again. "Better, better. But controlled doesn't mean weaker. _Use_ your feelings, don't ignore them. Just don't let them take over. Ready? Block!"

Eugi didn't have time to think, bringing the shaft of his weapon up to hamper the downward swing of silver light that was Iami's sword. "Good!" The Champion praised, hopping back a few paces. "Try again, now." Eugi grit his teeth and brought the sharp edges of the trident down in an arching swing, catching the other across the chest despite his attempt to dodge. Even as a thin red line appeared in Iami's torso, he smiled and let his arms fall to his sides. "Much better. Tired?"

"Yes," came the retiarius' gasped response, and Iami gestured towards the barracks.

"Time to head inside, then. You still haven't had dinner."

"Neither have you." Eugi reminded, nudging him gently in the side.

"This is true. We'll both go have some food." He said with an amused grin, his arm slipping around the other's shoulders and his head dipping down to place a quick peck on Eugi's cheek. Eugi blushed, looking around nervously to assure that they were alone. He was suddenly aware of a rich, rumbling sound, and realised that Iami was laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"You're still trying to ignore your feelings, _parvior_. What did I tell you?" His eyebrow quirked slightly in rhythm with his lopsided grin.

"Not to ignore my feelings?" Eugi replied laughingly, walking slightly to his right so that his hip bumped against Iami's. The older man just chuckled again, giving the shoulder under his rough palm a light squeeze.

"Good to see you were listening." They kept close to each other as they walked to the building, each basking in the presence of the other. Eugi's muscles were sore, his head pounded slightly, and he was winded, but he more felt safe and relaxed in Iami's embrace than he had since the attack on his village and the subsequent death of his family. It was with a sharp pang of resentment somewhere in the region of his heart that he slipped away from that warm, comforting arm to enter the dining area, where prying eyes needed to be avoided, and found a table with a relatively clean eating surface.

"Here looks good. You sit down, I'll go see if there's any food left we can scrounge."

"I won't hear of it. You're tired, you stay here. I'll go get the food." Iami insisted.

"But-"

"Don't forget it was my idea to train into the early evening. I'll feel guilty if you pulled a muscle because of me and then make it worse by scurrying around, fetching my dinner." He grinned, patting the shorter man's head. "I'll go."

"Alright." Eugi said with a resigned smile. "Only so you won't feel guilty." With that settled, the hoplomachus went off to the serving table, leaving Eugi alone at the table. He gazed off into space and twiddled his thumbs for a while, when a hand slammed down on the table beside him rather violently and he became aware of several figures standing behind him.

"I dunno, Hachus, I don't see anythin' special about him."

"Excuse me?" Eugi asked, turning on his stool to peer up at the three gladiators with a baffled expression.

"There's gotta be somethin' about him what's different." The scrawniest of them said, ignoring Eugi. "If he's can get so close ter the Champion so damn easy, there gotta be somethin'."

"They both got real freaky hair." One of the beefier two guffawed, jabbing a thick finger in the direction of his own scalp.

"Can I _help_ you?" Eugi snapped, shuffling backwards in an attempt to escape their gaze only to discover the table was in his way.

"Yeh, mebbe you can." Declared the thin, weasel-like one, wiping his nose on the back of his wrist. "Wot we wanna know is hows a tiny runt like youse can talk ter the Champion, and not getcher lights punched out." The three sniggered wickedly at the thickening confusion on Eugi's face. "Cause 'e dun normally take kindly ter peoples in general. And we's thinkin', he'da found himself people more worthy o' being his second mate, y'see?"

"Only, he got a likkle wimp like you fer a friend, and yer not good 'nuff to stand close 'nuff to him to hear him talkin'."

"Yeah." The third grunted, cracking his knuckles and hunching his ape-like shoulders. "You're not strong enough to be his friend. So how come he's too snotty to help us out and teach us to fight, but he spends all the time in the world with a teeny thing like you?" To emphasize his point, the brute rammed his podgy thumb into the retiarius' chest.

"Because," came a cold voice from behind the rabble, "I have no respect for mindless bullies and sneaking cheaters." The gladiators surrounding Eugi turned quickly to face Iami's sweltering gaze, cringing visibly. In one hand he carried a tray of food and drink, but the other arm was tensed up, his fist clenched. "Now get out of my sight, you cowards." None of them were looking for black eyes, and so they scurried off with dirty glares thrown over their shoulders. Iami just scoffed and set down the tray, seating himself beside his friend and pushing a portion of food in his direction.

"Who were those guys?"

"Nobody important, I can tell you that." He snorted. "Hachus thinks he's a real hot-shot because he's been in the arena for four years and he hasn't died yet. He's just lucky. I've seen him fight, and he's no warrior. And on top of that he thinks strength is everything. He's a piece of scum with no education, morals, or respect for anyone that can't kill him."

"Oh." Eugi said, looking at the cold meat on his plate and suddenly losing his appetite. They sat in silence for a while until Iami sighed and muttered,

"Sorry about that. They wouldn't be bugging you if I didn't hang around you so much."

"No no, don't apologise for them. It's not your fault."

"But it is. They probably wouldn't have sent you a second glance without me to attract attention, and now they're probably going to target you and-"

"Hush. Whatever happens, happens." With that, Eugi scooted over and leaned against him, weaving his fingers through Iami's. "I'm not afraid of them, and I'm not ashamed of how I feel about you."

"Eugi…" Iami breathed, his eyes glowing with admiration as he brushed back a strand of Eugi's hair, allowing the pad of his thumb to rest on his cheek. "You have no idea how happy that makes me." He angled his chin so that his next words brushed against the shell of Eugi's ear, his voice warm and flavoured with emotion: "How happy _you_ make me."

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And there you have my mini-chapter! My pitiful excuse for a reappearance. I promise you guys that there WILL be more of this later in the year, especially in September and October. That's when I start taking Latin again, and that's when my inspiration will start pouring in, I promise! And for those of you that wanted Gio x Seto and Bacura x Riou, that'll be in the next chapter. I've decided to rotate the chapters for a little while in terms of who the pairing focuses on. Oh and by the way, the next few updates will be short, fluff-based chapters, because I'm on summer break and I've forgotten all my Latin grammar rules. XD


	15. Ego Sum Dominus

Bacura cursed silently at the enveloping darkness, stealing through shadows and ducking behind any available structures. His favourite spot for watching Riou was less than satisfactory that night, the moon having disappeared and the stars themselves dimming to spite Bacura's best efforts. The soothing melody of wooden sword on training log kept him going, inching closer and squinting desperately.

At long last he settled himself behind a pile of sandbags, kneeling down to hide himself, disregarding the dirt that he knew would collect on his beautiful new toga. It was a price he would gladly pay for such a view of the one person in all of the world that interested him in the slightest. His time spent creeping was rewarded: the night was warm, and Riou had discarded his tunic in favour of training bare-chested. In fact, Bacura didn't mind that all he could see was his back, for it was a fine back indeed. None of the disgustingly brawny bulk that most men bragged of adorned Riou's shoulders; his muscle was lean, toned, and carefully hidden. Bacura smirked to himself at the thought. Riou couldn't hide it from _him_.

It seemed, however, that more time was lost in sneaking nearer than he had thought. The swings stopped, and the training field fell eerily quiet. 'Dammit. He's going to hear me breathing. Chirp, fucking crickets. Make that annoying noise that I've promised to kill you for. Come on.' He had to try very hard not to growl when the crickets refused to obey his telepathic commands. Instead, a slight wind picked up, and his eyes (ever riveted to one thing and one thing alone) caught the shiver that passed through Riou's body. He ducked just in time to escape notice when the young man turned around, and with his gaze riveted at his feet, a different sort of shiver altogether ran through his heart. The tunic, sure to be wanted, sat innocently beside him, and the soft whisper of footsteps on grass was getting closer and closer.

He decided quickly that there was nothing else to do but pretend he had intended to be found out. It was the only way to escape without making a fool of himself. He would just stand up, and scowl, and say something cruel and untrue to make sure Riou didn't figure out the filthy desires of the flesh that ransacked his thoughts whenever he laid eyes on that gentle, attractive, soft looking face-

"B-Bacura?" Riou rather inconsiderately interrupted his line of thought with a yelp that, rather than bringing Bacura to his senses, brought him to flop backwards onto his rump with a rather undignified cry. His speech forgotten, he chanced an awkward glance up at those beautiful brown eyes, glittering with surprise. He had only a moment to think to himself that he looked far nicer like that than when his gaze was dark with accusation and pain, before he let his own eyes slip back down to the tunic (damn that tunic!) that was the source of all his problems.

"Er. Looking for this?" He picked the garment up and held it out to Riou with a sheepish grin. It went unnoticed.

"What are you doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"Training. Now it's your turn to answer."

"I was talking a walk. I couldn't sleep."

"Pray tell, were you walking on your knees?" From the tone that had taken over Riou's voice, Bacura knew that familiar look of aversion had entered his eyes. Damn.

"What? What a stupid thing to ask." He snapped defensively.

"It's not stupid to ask if the bottom of your toga is covered with dirt." Riou pointed to said dirt for emphasis, and indeed when Bacura had been knocked onto his posterior, the stains on his knees were rather plainly revealed.

"I tripped." He lied automatically.

"You're lying." Riou replied with conviction. Bacura swore colourfully in his head.

"So what if I am? I'm your superior- your _master_! You can't talk to me this way!" He jumped to his feet and brushed at the evidence adhering to his clothing with determination. Now he had the advantage! He was taller, and he could use that to intimidate Riou. Advantage turned quickly to disadvantage when that soft, scarless face turned up to meet his, and his chest clenched tightly.

"Well excuse _me_, master, for daring to wonder what you were doing spying on me." Suddenly a light of understanding sparked to life and fear flooded through his aggressor. "It was _you_. You were the one I heard the night before last, swearing from behind a bush."

"I stubbed my toe." He snarled quickly, and instantly regretted it.

"It was you, then." Riou said, but somehow lacked any accusation in his tone. He seemed… Bacura stopped thinking about what emotion was touching that smooth tenor. His imagination was making him weak.

"It was. What of it?"

"What are you doing? Planning how to insult me best? Looking for an excuse to keep me back? Silently gloating that I'll never be some sort of champion?"

"Planning, no. Looking for excuses… always. But not to keep you back." He added before he could stop himself. Damn that mouth of his! His heart was getting too big, it was boiling up inside his torso and leaking out into his throat before he could stop it.

"What then? What… what is it you want from me?"

"What do I want from you?" Bacura shuddered inside, sensing that ache, that _feeling_ swelling inside of him. He should blurt it out, tell him everything. Tell him that the only excuse he wanted was an excuse to take him into his bed. No, that wasn't true. He would have been satisfied with an excuse to touch him, and excuse to hold him close and feel him breathe. What did he want from Riou? He wanted his eyes to be bright with something, not surprise or fear… with… no! He wouldn't let the thought cross his mind. "I want strength from you. I want money. Win me matches. Make me famous. That is all I have ever wanted from any of my possessions. What makes you so haughty that you think what I want from you is any different from the rest of them?" He scoffed, and turned away. Inside, a sharp pain stabbed mercilessly at him. You fool, it said. You fool.

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Bacura did not return the next night. Nor the night after that. He became reclusive, bitter, and broody. Inside him, his emotions festered and stung like a toenail, grown unchecked for too long, turned in on itself. He avoided Riou, and Riou avoided him, and they both found themselves miserable with the very effort it took to do so. This went on for days, and would have gone on longer had not an old friend invited him for a romp in the bathhouses.

Something flickered back to life in Bacura (once administered a good hard poke) and a new determination came with it. Discarding his self-imposed law of evasion, he strode right up to Riou's room one morning and demanded he fetch the _strigil _and oilpots, because he was going for a bath that day and Riou was the only one who knew the routine "well enough to not fuck-up and embarrass me." When Riou asked if he should fetch another slave to help carry supplies, a curt response cut short that idea. Bacura was adamant that they should be alone.

The walk to the bathhouse was in its own way therapeutic, for Bacura had been right about one thing. This trip was routine for Riou, and the familiarity made him more comfortable, as if the tension that had been increasing between them the last few months had never existed. It was so much easier to pretend that he was just the slave, and Bacura was just the master. They greeted the same people, said the same old things, and went up those same steps to the baths, but if Riou thought that nothing was different, he was wrong.

The sight of the change rooms was perhaps another repetition of past events for Riou, but for Bacura it was a confirmation of the fact that this time would be vastly unique. He shed his clothes with a reckless pace, tossing them to Riou for storage. When the other man passed him, headed for the recreation room as was the custom, Bacura broke tradition with one simple action: he cleared his throat.

"…yes?" Riou asked, confusion in his tone.

"You'll be wanting to get rid of your clothes. You can't bathe fully dressed."

"What? Bathe?" He asked, startled. "But I'm just a-"

"You're a gladiator, is what you are. You're not my slave… you're my guest." As inviting as the phrase ought to have sounded, a chill ran up Riou's spine. As wary as he was of some manner of deception, he wasn't about to openly defy Bacura is such a… precarious situation.

"If you say so." He said, and with one last baffled glance at Bacura's expression (already bored of waiting) pulled his shirt up over his head and let his undergarments fall. He missed Bacura's greedy glance at his buttocks and placed his clothes alongside his master's.

"Right, let's go. I have some friends who seem to think they can arm-wrestle, and I'd like to introduce you to them…" A glint entered Bacura's eyes, and it was with a sense of dread that Riou walked with him through the passageway.


	16. Gladius Fulgens

Gionoci was silent as he walked through the ornate corridors, his toes wriggling against the strange sensation of being confined to sandals. The sun had not yet risen, and the eerie shadows that danced about his feet set him on edge, peering about the dark hall. The past few days had been genuinely unpleasant for him. The food was better, the heat was less scalding, and the training, beyond simple steps in his room, had been essentially nonexistent. The company, however, was poor in comparison. He was treated like a fool by the superiors, like a joke by the guards, and like a beast by the slaves. Gionoci hated the tongue of the Romans. He knew little of it, and what he did know he spoke with a thick Gaul accent. The only friend he had in this oversized _villa_ was Ounda, but thank the gods he had at least that. Light began to trickle into the building, and Gionoci wondered where he was being led. His language skills made asking the right questions difficult, but he managed. It was understanding the answers that he struggled with.

"_Sumus huc,_" his guide told him, and the gladiator stepped through a magnificent gateway into what he thought must have once been a courtyard of some sort. A circle of ground had been cleared and filled with sand, and around it a small block of marble seats were constructed. With the first beginnings of sunlight touching his face and his eyes on the invisible audience, Gionoci suddenly felt in his element again. He wondered to himself if he would finally meet his 'owner', and attempted to form the words while he followed the man towards a corner of the open miniature stadium.

"_Qu…quid est dominus? Est in atrium?_" Apparently, his attempt was poor. The roman servant laughed at him, and replied with thoughtfully slow pronunciation.

"_Non. Dominus est in Roma. Non est huc. Huc est aream,_" he said, pointing to the area around them, "_non est atrium_." Gionoci nodded his head slowly as comprehension dawned. He wouldn't be meeting the man who'd purchased him. They plodded slowly across the sand, and as it got between the fair-haired man's toes he felt excitement picking up inside of him. Someone had set up a stand at a far end, and something on it gleamed brightly as they approached. Adrenaline shot through his veins and a gasp touched Gionoci's lips when he saw what it was.

Luminous from much polishing, the armour sat waiting for him, pulsating with a secret energy. The helmet was a soft bronze colour, gilded in places with gold and crested with a plume of black horsehair with the tips bleached white. He reached out to run his fingers across the relief on the crown of the skull, depicting a violent battle between some great hero and a horde of vicious beasts with claws and fangs, pulling chariots with warriors wielding slings. It was unlike any gladiator battle he'd even seen, but it thrilled him. His eyes passed quickly over the big, rectangular shield and touched down on the tempered steel blade that caught his attention like it caught the sunlight, frolicking carelessly down its lethal edge.

"_Haec est meus_?" He asked reverently, almost afraid to reach for the beautiful sword.

"_Ita, gladius est tuus_," The man confirmed. Gionici's hesitant hand went to the hilt, gilded with amber and onyx, and gripped the smooth handle. He held it level, and the other took a step back, inviting him to try it out on the air. A firm grin plastered itself upon his face, and he struck, slashing and swinging in time to the drills that had been implanted into his brain through endless practice. The metal sang to him, turning elegantly and slicing through the air with a gentle thrum.

"_Te instrue, crines coceus. Exerce!_"

He didn't need to be told twice. With the fervour of a young child with a new toy, he tugged on the helmet, hefted the heavy shield, and walked towards the centre of the small arena. There was a pause for an intake of breath, and then a pounding sound of something hitting the sand rung in his ears. He turned quickly and laid eyes on the massive dog that ran across the sand towards him, fangs bared and eyes wild. Gionoci thought momentarily how cruel it was to use the handsome beast for this human sport, but then he swung his sword and did not think, only fought. It was like sorcery, the grace with which he moved under the weight of his armor, the ease with which the sword melted into his palm and ceased to become a sword and became an extension of his body and his spirit.

"_Noli cani neca_!" The man shouted as Gionoci very nearly cut off one of the ferocious canine's ears. Another voice, however, quickly surpassed the first with its cold, commanding tenor, hardly raised above the average conversational volume.

"_Id neca. Canem mortem inferra_." The gladiator obeyed, and as the creature made its final glorious charge at him, he impaled it through the chest like a hairy pig on a spit. Gionoci curled his lip in disgust, and anchored a foot on its shoulder to draw his sword free. Curious, he turned to look for whom the second voice had originated from.

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_Sumus huc – _We are here

_Qu…quid est dominus? Est in atrium? –_ What is the master? Is he in the reception hall?

(Obviously Giono meant to say _Quis est dominus_¸ which means 'who is the master'.)

_Non. Dominus est in Roma. Non est huc. –_ No. The master is in Rome. He isn't here.

_Huc est aream, non est atrium –_ Here is the courtyard, not the reception hall.

_Haec est meus_? –This is mine?

_Ita, gladius est tuus –_ Yes, the sword is yours.

_Te instrue, crines coceus. Exerce! –_ Gather yourself, yellow hair. Exercise!

_Noli cani neca! –_ Don't kill the dog!

_Id neca. Canem mortem inferra. –_ Kill it. Bring death to the dog.

Muaha! And that's all you're getting. :3


	17. Carnifex et Canis

"_Imperator_!" The guide gasped, falling to his knees in a bow. Resent touched Gionoci's proud heart as he forced himself to follow suit, dropping his bloodied sword to the ground with a clatter.

"Rise," The man commanded emotionlessly, and the gladiator lifted his head, finally struck by the truth of the matter. His new master was not a slave dealer, not a gladiator trainer, not a rich senator. He had been bought by the Emperor himself. His mind whirled as he scraped together what little he knew about Roman Emperors. Don't make eye contact- or was it that you're not supposed to look away? No, no eye contact. You're not supposed to turn your back to him, right?

"What is your name?" The Emperor suddenly asked, the sharp quality of his voice waking the gladiator from his nervous internal dialogue.

"Gionoci, _dominus._"

"Let that be the last time you speak the name. It bores me- you will be something else from now on," he said, casting his eyes around and letting them fall on the carcass of the dog, "_Cave canem_." An amused smirk pulled at the corner of his stern lips. "Yes, that's what I'll call you. _Canem_." An angry prickle tore up the Celt's spine. A dog, was he?

"_Ita, dominus._" He said through gritted teeth, the tendons in his hand tightening as he clenched his fingers together. Gionoci might speak the words, but his mind and soul would never call anybody master. Fury boiled in his every breath, every exhalation a hiss of defiance. 'Let me keep my temper.' He prayed to himself, to whatever cruel god was weaving this thread of fate. 'I don't want to die.'

"Lucio, clean up this mess and show the gladiator back to his room. Enter him in the next open battle and place forty on his head. See that he doesn't lose." With that the leader of Rome turned and swept off to his _cubiculum_. Gionoci heaved a sigh of relief, and pulled of his helmet. Despite the fact that it was only morning and hadn't heated up yet, he felt hot, sticky, and rather claustrophobic with it on. He opened his mouth with a scowl, but the man identified as Lucio quickly cut him off.

"A single word against him is treason, gladiator. You would be wise to remember that."

"_Ita vero_," Gionoci said bitterly, and picked up his weapon with a wave of disgust racing through him. This armour, this sword, this arena: they didn't stand for anything. They didn't mean glory or honour of triumph or bravery. Everything, including himself, was just the whimsy of some rich bastard with too much time on his hands. The blade no longer looked beautiful and rare. It brought illness to his heart, and as he watched the lifeless flesh of his victim carted off, he realised there was some truth in what the Emperor had chosen to call him. In reality, he was no better than some prize hunting dog, bred up to look nice and fight energetically for someone else's gain. A rotten flavour nestled in the back of his throat, and he spat at the ground. When it did nothing to retaliate, Gionoci shouted vengefully in his native tongue and kicked the sand. Lucio returned to him, and said nothing.

"Back to my room, I guess?"

"Yes," he answered, an almost apologetic turn to his reply. "Tomorrow your training will start. One of the retired generals is going to be teaching you- I trust you can find your way back to the _aream_ without me?"

"Yeah. What'll happen if I lose?" the gladiator asked warily.

"You'll be put to death, either by the sword of the other gladiator or at the sword of the Emperor's executioners." The chill of fear jumped from hair to hair down his arms and back, and Gionoci swallowed heavily.

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"And now on to the next battle!" The announcer bellowed, the crowds cheering in reply. "Introducing the renowned Greek warrior, possessed in strength by the mighty Neptune and wielding his ensign, the retiarius Cleisthenes! And his opponent, a more recent addition to the arena: the wild and untamable Celt from the north, the Emperor's very own _Rex Canis_!"

Even in his only escape, Gionoci felt the sting of insult. He direly longed to strike down that smug man and repeatedly introduce that oversized, flapping mouth to his fists. The only thing really stopping him was the roar of the spectators, and the desire to see them scream his name. 'Hell,' he though, walking to stand on his end of the distance pole, chin held high under his helmet, 'I don't even have a name anymore.'

"_Pugna_!"

And it began. Gionoci had seen Eugi take down huge men with the careful aim of his net and the advantage of his long trident; this man had more experience, and he was bound to be well-versed in tactics against murmillo. This Cleisthenes wasted no time, and swung the knotted mesh at Gionoci's head. Panic quickly rose in his chest and Gionoci knew, in that split second that he had to react, that his life would depend on whether or not his helmet became entangled in the retiarius's net. His huge shield came up and buffeted away the fronds that spelled certain doom. He had saved himself- for the moment.

"_Canis est ignavus!_" The onlookers shouted, pelting him with invisible abuse. A feral snarl ripped through him, and the murmillo lashed out heavily with his sword. Surprised, the opponent had no time to turn his shoulder-guard to the blade and took a vicious score across the collar. Gionoci made to swing again, his weapon bouncing back with a metallic pang as the prongs of the Greek's trident intercepted it. His own breath echoed around his ears, trapped inside the helmet, as he bowled the other man over with his shoulder. Wary of the alert referee, Gionoci skipped back a distance while the retiarius struggled to his feet. The crowd appraised and condemned his mercy, but all cheered unanimously with bestial enthusiasm when Cleisthenes stabbed two of three prongs through the meat of the other gladiator's arm. A shout of pain escaped him, and his temper bubbled dangerously. Fine- if they wanted a wild dog of the north, he would be a wild dog of the north. He would show them how pathetic their warriors were. He would hear them cry his name.

Sand flew up around his feet as he launched himself at his opponent, bashing aside the trident with his huge shield and bringing the sword down again, but vertically. The weapon began to sing again as it cut a trail through the pectorals and gashed down the stomach, pulling away at the navel. It hummed in the air as he jumped back, catching the bridge of the unarmored man's nose. The sword began to look beautiful again.

"_Rex Canis! Rex Canis! Rex Canis!_" They chanted.

Blood spattered Gionoci's knuckles, spotted his face like morbid freckles. The net came again, erratically and desperately this time. The wrist of his weapon-hand caught in its tangled embrace, and he turned left and right, jerking to bring it free. Soon the sword too became ensnared. Gionoci cringed and spat blood, feeling a twinge of agony and knowing too late that the retiarius's weapon had pierced his lower abdomen. 'If I don't die here, I'll die for losing. I want to live. I have to live!'

With an upsurge of adrenaline, the Celt ignored the biting pain in his gut and swung his shield, catching Cleisthenes across the jaw with the big metal studs in its center. His opponent fell to the ground clutching his face, and Gionoci threw down his armored plate and drew the trident's barbs from his own flesh. The crowd was pleased. Cleisthenes slowly began to get up, and the murmillo felt no pity. Turning the own man's weapon downwards, he drove its prongs deep into the Greek's thigh. A gasping, tortured bellow of hurt passed through his lungs, and he threw up his arm in surrender. The mob erupted in a loud, orgasmic cry of delight.

"_Canis! Canis! Canis! Canis!_"

It wasn't his name, but it might as well have been. Shudders raced though Gionoci as he dropped the trident and shook his arm free of the net. His weapon began to throb between his fingers, telling him to kill, to slay, to drive the air from this foolish southerner's lungs. He turned his eyes to the sky, and then to the people, jumping up and down, beckoning he do what his sword longed for. The gladiator's gaze went to the sponsor for reference. Death, his hand gestured. Death to the loser. Circling the fallen prey, he saw the fear in Cleisthenes's eyes. What did it matter? He feared death the same as Gionoci did. Jealousy flared in his nostrils, and blood soaked his palate. This man had a name. He did not- he was a beast. What should he care?

"_Canis! Canis!_"

Killing brought glory and fame and recognition. It was repugnant, distasteful, and morbid. And so it seemed morbidly appropriate that the victor of the battle, Rex Canis, let loose a howl of triumph as he plunged his beautiful, bloody blade into the heart of his opponent.

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_Imperator _– Emperor

_Dominus_ – Master

_Cave canem – _Beware of the dog

_Canem / Canis_ – Dog

_Ita – _Yes

_Cubiculum –_ Bedroom

_Ita vero _– Sure, yes (sarcastic)

_Aream –_ Courtyard

_Rex Canis –_ King of Dogs

_Pugna!_ – Fight!

_Canis est ignavus –_ The dog is cowardly


End file.
